To Us the World is Different
by AnakinCaffrey
Summary: Not everything is seen in black and white. Peter has been living a lie and Neal is forced to tell lies, but perhaps they can learn to be truthful together. [SLASH. Neal/Peter. Rated for future themes/language.]
1. Chapter 1

In the early spring of '93, he remembered promising his father he'd join him for the weekend rather than staying cooped up in his suite on campus. They were going to watch a game on the television, something they hadn't done in quite a long time _together._ Jon Burke was a busy man though and worked even while he was supposed to be relaxing. "Peter." His son, Peter, looked away from the television long enough to look at his father questioningly. "Can you get me a beer, son?"

Peter, one year short of being able to join in his father's drinking habits, sighed and did as he was asked. He got up from the plush couch and walked to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to pull out a single beer from the pack. When he returned to the living room where he'd left his father, he handed him the beer and gave the file on the table a quick glance. What he saw there was perhaps the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen before and he couldn't help but stare in awe, at least until he realized _why_ that beautiful face was part of a case file. "That kid's missing?"

Jon looked up at his son, nodding. "It's another runaway," he said dejectedly. He didn't like the idea of a young man running around without anyone to guide him or any means to live with. He'd always feared that Peter would run as an act of rebellion, but they'd long since passed that fear. Peter never once threatened to run away, nor did he act exceedingly rebellious. "His parents haven't given us a legitimate reason for this, but they think he's in the area." At the confused look on Peter's face, he added, "He's not a local. He's actually from a little south of us, but his mother seems to think he has friends up here that he relies on." Shrugging, he looked down at the file again. "I just hope the kid is all right. If he's out there, we'll definitely find him."

Hannah Burke, Peter's mother, entered the room with a fresh batch of cookies then. The two men's faces lit up with bright smiles, an absolute turnaround from the solemn looks they'd worn while talking about the missing teenager. "Are you still looking at that Bennett case, sweetie?" Hannah asked patiently. She understood _why_ he wouldn't let it go, but she realized how much of a toll this case took on her husband. Jon nodded, grunting, mumbling something about needing to leave his case files at the precinct next time. Hannah shook her head, smiling sadly, before seating herself beside her husband.

They watched the game quietly, occasionally talking about Peter's college life, which he didn't go into very much detail about. They didn't need to know that he wasn't entirely focused on his studies. He didn't want them to worry unnecessarily about him, but he also couldn't tell them about who he _really_ is. He was living in his older sister's shadow, the perfect child who grew up to have the perfect family. He had nothing against his brother-in-law or his two nieces. He just felt unworthy. He'd discovered in his senior year of high school that he wasn't very interested in women and he was afraid to tell anyone, much less his own parents.

Cara, his sister, married young and had her daughters very young as well. She'd done very well for herself, marrying a man who could take care of her. She didn't even have to work because he was able to support her so freely. That was a luxury Peter didn't have. He wouldn't be able to live happily ever after like his sister. He could eventually fall in love with another man, but he doubted that he'd ever find another homosexual man who'd be interested in _him._ Boring Burke, that was his nickname in middle school. Of course, he'd turned that around in his high school years, joining the football and baseball teams to gain himself a reputation. He'd even gotten into his current college on a baseball scholarship, but he couldn't really see himself continuing down that path much longer. It was a nice hobby to have, something he hoped to share with a lover someday, but he didn't think he'd make a career of it.

Looking at that file on the table, the one of the missing teenager, he realized that his life could be worse. He had no reason to run away from home when he was that young. He could have easily run because he was spooked by the realization of his sexuality, but he kept to himself about it. Whatever made the smiling young man in that file run away couldn't have been good.

Glancing at his parents as they sat beside on another, relaxed against each other, he realized that he could never have that kind of closeness with another person. Living his life as a homosexual was unacceptable and he'd have to come to terms with that one way or another. He would need to marry a beautiful woman he didn't love and have a family of his own. He needed to have a perfect family like Cara, needed to impress his parents with it the way Cara impressed them. He felt unhappy about his decision, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't live with another man or openly show affection for another man without being resented, harassed. He'd heard horror stories of what had been done to men who announced they were gay and he didn't want to take part in that. If that meant he had to bury himself deeply into the closet, then so be it.

He might be unhappy, but everyone else would be happy. Perhaps as happy as the boy in the picture looked.

•◊•

**January 12, 2009**

Peter woke up to a small whine beside him. Opening his eyes slightly, he saw his dog, Satchmo, panting in front of him, breathing on him. "Hungry?" he murmured sleepily. He reached out, petting the top of Satchmo's head, smiling when the dog's tail started wagging. He could hear footsteps approaching the bedroom and sighed, determined to keep up the charade for his family's sake. "Hey, hon," he whispered when she entered the room. They'd been married for a little over five years. Elizabeth was beautiful, but she wasn't what he wanted. He treated her the way he should treat a woman—respectfully.

Her face lit up at the sound of his voice, making his heart sink. "Hey, hon." She came closer to the bed, crouching to press her lips against his forehead. "I made breakfast downstairs." Looking at the dog, she added, "I have kibble for you, too." She rubbed Satchmo's fur, grinning at her husband.

He eventually forced himself to get out of bed, standing in front of Elizabeth who had risen to her full height, looking up at him eagerly. He bent forward, pressing his lips against hers. He'd never once in the past decade considered it a passionate kiss, nor had he considered any other similar act in the past a kiss in general. He couldn't _kiss_ her because he didn't _love_ her. Well, he loved her to an extent, but not as he was supposed to.

They sat together at their dining room table, eating quietly. He read the newspaper, looking for something interesting to read, while Elizabeth scanned through her emails in search of a detail she'd missed from a client. "How's the search going, El?" he asked, adding humor to his voice for her sake. She was growing more and more frustrated by the second and he couldn't help but notice.

"About as well as your ability to cook lasagna." He chuckled, knowing that she wasn't _terribly_ angry if she was able to insult his cooking. Lasagna wasn't something he specialized in. He preferred the grill to the stove any day.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself closing up the paper, standing to rinse his dishes and place them neatly in the sink. El stood when he turned around, smiling up at him shyly. "I'll see you tonight, hon," he whispered, arching forward to press his lips against hers again. She kept him there longer than he would have liked, but he allowed it.

"See you tonight, hon," she replied, grinning up at him.

Gathering up his jacket, cell phone, and keys, he left his house and got into his brand new _Taurus._ He drove to the agency, frowning all the while, until he was sitting in his chair in his office, overlooking the bullpen. Working for the FBI had its perks, but he truly wished his life were different. He might not change his job, but he wished he could change his home life. As sad as it sounded, he would willingly trade in Elizabeth for a man with a heart as gorgeous and tender as hers.

He looked at the stack of files on the edge of his desk, sighing. He'd have to go through them at some point, so he may as well start on them before Hughes came in.

He was halfway through his third file when he heard the shattering of glasses down in the corner of the bullpen where the coffee machine was located. Peter rose from his seat, unable to see what happened from his vantage point. He stepped out of his office and glanced down to see a young man tending to the shattered pieces of several coffee mugs, surrounded in a sea of coffee. Peter couldn't see his face, but he could practically _feel_ the distress and frustration emanating from the younger man. Just as he was about to stalk down the stairs and make his way over to the coffee area, Clinton Jones approached him. "Probies," he muttered, shaking his head. "It's the kid's first day and he's already broken more mugs than Kyle did in the first month he worked here."

That made Peter feel even more sympathetic than before. He understood the stresses of fetching coffee for the department. It was a lot for just one person. Yes, he'd made it through that stage, but he remembered it as though it were yesterday. Stepping around Jones, Peter descended the stairs and walked directly over to the coffee area, grabbing a towel that the probie hadn't seen apparently, since he was trying to soak all of the coffee into paper towels. "Here," Peter said, crouching beside the other man, handing him the towel.

What he saw astonished him. The younger man's eyes were a very beautiful, mesmerizing shade of blue. He looked so young, but definitely not as young as their normal probies were. "Thanks," the probie muttered, taking the towel and proceeding to effectively dry up the mess he'd made. Peter helped him clean up the rest of the mess and even offered to help him with the coffee deliveries. Once all of the coffee was dispersed among the department, the probie's shoulders slumped.

He was turning to walk away and do whatever else he could, but Peter tentatively gripped his shoulder. "What's your name?" he asked gently, trying his damnedest not to scare the young man off on his first day.

"Neal," he whispered, his eyes lowered to the floor. "I'm sorry for the mess. I really thought I could carry all of that—"

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "Never overestimate yourself, Neal." The young man looked even more dejected than he had a moment ago. "Hey, cheer up. I know exactly how you're feeling right now." At that, Neal looked up at him shyly. "It wasn't so long ago that each of us was in your position, the blundering probie fetching coffee and making an utter fool of himself." He squeezed Neal's shoulder gently. "I remember making so many mistakes in my first few days, so don't be discouraged." Staring into the eyes of the young man before him made him feel so much younger than his thirty years. It felt like he was…_renewed._

"Thanks, Agent…" He trailed off, having realized that he hadn't gotten Peter's name. His eyes were wide and slightly fearful, as if he should know the man's name.

"Burke," he filled in. "Peter Burke."

Neal smiled, nodding. "Thanks, Agent Burke."

They parted ways there and Peter vowed that he would find Neal on their lunch break and try to rope him into having lunch with him. He understood how it felt to be a probie, how overwhelming it could be in such an intense surrounding. He hadn't gotten a whole lot of comfort from the department when he was in Neal's position, so… Maybe he could make the transition a whole lot easier for Neal.

•◊•

"Cozying up to Agent Burke, I see." Neal was startled by the voice behind him. He turned cautiously to see a dark, young woman with hair a shade darker than her skin. "You need to watch yourself, probie," she threatened, her tone making Neal's insides go cold. "Peter's one of my best friends. You're an unassigned probie right now and I don't want to see you mess things up for him." If he didn't know any better, he might have assumed this was Peter's wife. He'd seen a picture of Elizabeth Burke before and she was quite beautiful—not to say that the woman in front of him wasn't. However, neither of them shared an interest in one another. He preferred a partner more on the masculine scale and she preferred to _be_ the masculinity of the relationship. He had nothing against lesbians and he assumed that her gaydar must have gone off the charts when she saw him talking to Peter.

He'd never been very good at hiding his feelings before and it certainly didn't help that he found Agent Peter Burke to be the most attractive man he could ever recall seeing in his life. "I'll keep my distance," he said solemnly, turning back to his original work—filing the department's files in alphabetical order.

He could feel her eyes on his back, burning holes through him. He just didn't think turning around was the best way to go about things. Knowing that he's a probie meant she knew he could be removed from the department as easily as he was let into it. And he had the feeling that this particular agent had the power to do just that. "I saw the way he looked at you," she whispered, stepping closer to him. He glanced over his shoulder to catch her doing the same over her own shoulder before focusing on him. "Between you and me, _Caffrey_, Peter's heart isn't in the relationship he has with his wife—if you know what I mean."

Neal knew exactly what she wasn't saying. "He didn't seem very…_interested_ in me."

She laughed. She actually _laughed_ at him. "Probie, you have so much to learn. And not just in here, I see." He turned to glare at her, but she just shook her head, her lips quirking into a sly smirk. "Peter's a good man, but he doesn't know what's good for him." He sympathized, knowing how difficult Peter's life at home must be if he's forced himself into a living arrangement he doesn't enjoy. "I'm not saying go whole-hog on him, Caffrey, but…" She hesitated. He could understand that she was overly cautious of who was close to Peter and he also understood that Peter was in the closet—very deeply embedded into it by the sounds of it. "Talk to him a little here and there. He seems to like you."

He risked a glance up the staircase, knowing Peter was right there in that office, hunched over a file on his desk with a coffee mug within reach. "Do you think I actually have a shot with him? I mean, he looks like he's a little…"

"He acts like he's a macho man, but he's a real sweetheart underneath all of that stone." She smiled affectionately up at her boss. "Peter doesn't realize that he doesn't have to hide who he is here, but he's been like that since he started working here. His wife doesn't know everything there is to the wonderful Peter Burke," she said quietly, "but I think you _might_ have a shot at getting under his skin."

Neal's face warmed up at the self-implied innuendo, but he knew that what _he_ was thinking wasn't what _she_ had in mind. "I'll…be a friend to him."

"Good." That one word carried so much weight, so much authority. It actually sent chills up his spine. "He doesn't have very many friends by his own choice, Neal. You don't seem to have much of a social life yourself, so try to make things work." She was looking at him in a way that made him feel as though he were naked with her inspecting him very closely and it made him uncomfortable. "It's not every day that I give someone my blessing to become an integral part of Peter's life, but there's something about you that he seems to like, so don't hurt him." He smiled. _As if_ he could ever hurt such a wonderful man. Granted, he didn't know much about Agent Peter Burke yet, but the agent in front of him seemed to know a lot. "If I find out that you hurt him in _any_ way, your life will become a living hell. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he murmured.

She left him alone after that and he went about his business, doing as he was asked throughout the day. Shortly after one in the afternoon, he was sitting at a small desk in the bullpen. He glanced up as Agent Burke came down, brown paper bag in hand, and whisked past his desk. Neal frowned, wishing he could get out of this hell. Paperwork made him tired and that's all he'd been doing.

Suddenly, a brown paper bag was dropped onto his desk. He looked up to see Agent Burke staring down at him, a soft smile on his face. "Hey, Neal," he said sweetly, his eyes betraying the façade he'd been living in. "Why don't you join me for lunch?"

His throat felt dry and the words wouldn't come out right away, so he decided a nod was sufficient. He closed the files on his desk, setting them apart from the files he'd finished going through already. He swung his jacket on and followed Peter to the elevator, listening as Peter carried on and on about a coffee shop just a few blocks away that he loved sitting in because of its view. Neal couldn't contribute to the conversation much, but he was enjoying listening to Peter. He couldn't help himself from staring at Peter as he spoke enthusiastically about what would be their very first of many lunch dates to come.


	2. Chapter 2

The coffee shop had a really, _really_ nice view. Neal sat in the booth across from Peter and couldn't keep himself from staring at the other man. He himself was an art aficionado, but nothing could compare to Peter. He was like beautiful marble, sculpted into perfection. Even the way the sun shined on him made him look _more_ appealing. "Is there something on my face?" Peter asked, genuinely concerned that that might have been the case. He actually leaned forward to grab a napkin.

"No, no," Neal quickly insisted. "Sorry." He forced himself to look at the sandwich he hadn't touched since they'd chosen to sit at this booth. He finally lifted it and took a bite, chewing slowly, his eyes completely averted from Peter.

They settled into silence and neither of them were sure if it could be classified as awkward, as they were both very socially impaired people. What broke the silence was the ringing of Peter's phone. He sighed and apologized quickly to Neal as he reached for his phone in his left pocket. Upon pulling it out, Neal saw a slight grimace cross Peter's features. He reluctantly answered. "Hey, hon."

_Ah, it's his wife,_ Neal realized. He kept quiet, eating quietly as well. He occasionally glanced at Peter during the conversations when Peter grew quiet himself. He seemed concerned about something.

"Hon, I—" A pause. "Yes." Another pause. "Yes, El, I'll be right over." He hung up and Neal set his sandwich down, his brows furrowed. Peter set his phone down and rested his elbows on the table, holding his head in his palms.

Neal didn't want to pry into Peter's personal life, but he felt compelled to ask, "What's wrong?"

Peter lifted his head and gave Neal a small, sad smile. "My wife…" The word didn't sound right to either of them, but they didn't make that known to one another. "My wife's business was just shut down. She's not sure if it's permanent or temporary, but they said there was some criminal investigation taking place on the premises." Peter slid out from the booth, his smile completely disappearing now. He didn't _want_ to go see Elizabeth. He wanted to stay right where he was—with Neal. "I'm sorry for cutting lunch short, but…"

"No, I understand," Neal insisted.

"Will you let me walk you back first?" Something in Peter's voice made Neal's heart break. Peter really _does_ like him. Just as Neal was about to tell him that he'd be able to make it back safely and that he should really go see to his wife's business, a light bulb seemed to turn on above Peter's head. "Hey," he said, sounding eager. "Why don't you come with me? This'll be your first opportunity to see some action." The offer did intrigue Neal, but he felt like he was obligated to decline. This wasn't any of _his_ business and he truly didn't want to interfere in something so personal, even if it did give him some insight as to what's done in the field. Before he could respond, Peter spoke again. "I understand if you want to head back, but I'd really…like it if you'd come with me."

_That_ hurt. If he said no now, Peter would probably sulk in his rejection. Sighing internally, Neal replied, "Sure. Sounds good." It surprised him to see how quickly three words could change Peter's mood entirely. He looked ecstatic, his smile wider. He slid out of the booth as well, standing in front of Peter. They simply stared into each other's eyes for a moment before Neal broke the eye contact, reaching for his sandwich. He wasn't all that hungry as it was, but he felt bad about wasting it.

Peter, yet again, surprised him. He walked over to the counter and asked for something to wrap the sandwich in since they had to leave and Neal hadn't finished. He definitely didn't ask Peter to do that for him, nor would he have considered asking him. The thought was generous and Neal appreciated that, but things were beginning to seem too good to be true. "Here you go." Peter came back with a small baggie, handing it to Neal. Once the sandwich was tucked into it and sealed, he gave Peter a small smile, which was returned with full force.

They pulled their jackets on and left the coffee shop, heading down the street. Neal knew where Peter's wife worked, so he knew that the walk wouldn't be long. The cool air nipped at his skin sharply, causing him to groan internally. He really didn't mind the winter, but he _hated_ how cold it was. There was only so much he could do to warm himself up at home, even with his landlady's generous help. He hated asking her for so much since she'd given him _more_ than enough to survive.

_Burke Premiere Events. _It was even more intimidating to him from the inside. He knew how spectacular the company was. Hell, he'd worked with them once in the past to organize the catering part of a friend's wedding. He'd never _met_ Elizabeth, but her reputation was fabulous.

He kept walking behind Peter, all the while staring at the scenery, and then he noticed someone coming closer to them. "Peter." His name was said with such relief and it twisted Neal's heart to hear it. "I'm glad you're here, hon." She was enveloped into Peter's welcoming arms, much to Neal's disdain. She finally seemed to realize that Neal was standing behind Peter awkwardly. Straightening up, she gave him a gentle smile, extending her arm towards him. "Hi. I'm Elizabeth Burke—Peter's wife."

Neal took her hand and kissed her knuckles gently, returning the smile—though it was faked. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Burke. I'm Neal Caffrey." She looked up at Peter, who just happened to be staring at _Neal._

"Hon?" Peter started a bit, looking down at his wife. "Yvonne is in the back. She's trying to figure out how all of this happened."

Neal trailed behind the couple as they talked, at least until his cell went off. The theme to the _Inspector Gadget_ cartoon started playing and Neal's face heated up immensely as Peter and Elizabeth turned around to look at him. He quickly retrieved his phone from his pocket and answered it blindly. "Neal Caffrey," he said quietly, turning away.

"_Mon frère._"

Neal rolled his eyes, heaving a brief sigh of relief. "Moz, you're calling me while I'm working," he hissed. "This better be important."

"_Ah, you're mad at me because your embarrassing ringtone went off._" Neal decided he wouldn't dignify that with a response. "_Neal, you need to come home._"

Now he was concerned. "What's wrong?" He could hear whining in the background and he closed his eyes, lifting his hand to rub the bridge of his nose. "I'm assuming he wants me there?"

Moz sighed on the other end. "_You know what he wants better than I do, Neal. He barely talks to me now that he's 'all grown up.'"_ He could hear the sarcastic undertone in Moz's voice.

"I'm aware of that. I live with him on a daily basis." He turned just as Peter was coming back to him. "I'll, uh, text you back, Moz." Moz harrumphed as a reply before hanging up.

Peter's eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Everything okay?" The last thing he needed was for Peter to discover how deeply he'd buried himself in the closet for a little while. He was afraid of imposing himself upon Peter's personal life and he hoped Peter shared the same sentiment regarding his.

Neal bit his lip, rubbing his thumb over the screen of his phone. "I know this'll sound terrible because it's my first day, but I—I need to go."

Glancing back at his wife for a moment, he seemed to have some kind of silent conversation with her. He turned back to Neal. "Do you need a lift? El's going to talk to Yvonne and see if any details have surfaced."

He wasn't sure if he should accept the offer. He _really_ didn't want Peter to go anywhere near his home. That would totally give off the wrong impression and he _really_ didn't want that either. "No, thank you." He saw Peter's frown for a split second. "I'm sorry. I know I'm a terrible employee, but—"

Peter shook his head, reaching out to grip Neal's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry. If it's an emergency, it's an emergency. I'll tell Reese to go easy on you."

Pity. _Pity._ That's what he saw in Peter's eyes—or at least that's what he imagined. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'm sorry," he said again. Peter waved it off, giving him a small smile. He could see the pain behind it and wondered if it was actually because he had to leave. Peter was with his wife now. That should…_supposedly_ make him happier. Under the circumstances though, he understood why Peter wanted him to stick around. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Peter said a quick goodbye to him. As Neal turned, walking out of the building, he _knew_ Peter's eyes were on him. He could just _feel_ it. His phone buzzed and he looked down at it. "_Well?_" Moz was quite impatient when he couldn't deal with babysitting. He dialed Moz's number and waited as it rang. He was about five blocks from home, but he didn't mind the walk. "_Neal, answering the text message wasn't sufficient enough for you?_"

"Someone needs a little more wine," he muttered. "I'm on my way. Tell him to calm down, please."

He could hear Moz talking. It was muffled, but the words were unmistakable. "_You better hurry up. He's getting irritated._"

Neal sighed. He himself was starting to get irritated. This would be a conversation he'd hold with Moz _later._ His patience needed a great deal of work, especially since he'd been the one to offer doing favors for Neal. Moz, pain in the ass that he was, helped him a great deal. He'd been there through most of Neal's rough times, this being the most recurrent and problematic of those times.

•◊•

Neal climbed up three flights of stairs to get into his apartment. The door was open and that didn't bode well with Neal. Granted, Moz knew he was coming home, but he _always_ told Moz to keep the door locked. When he entered, he saw the two of them laying on his bed. "Nicky?" Neal whispered. He got a look of disgust in response and shuddered. "Nicky, what's wrong?"

"Neal, he was watching something he shouldn't have been watching while I was…napping." Moz was ashamed to admit that, but Neal knew better. He'd gotten the story from Nicky when he'd come home after attempting to find a job or _something_ to help him pay the bills and support the three of them—since Moz was too lazy to work on his _own,_ choosing to lay on Neal's bed for several hours.

Cautiously, Neal looked towards the kitchen table. His laptop was over there and he immediately knew what Moz was talking about. He mentally hit himself for _forgetting_ to turn his laptop off—or at least close the browser. "Daddy, Uncle Mozzie said you were gonna ground me."

"Nicolas James, what have I _told_ you about touching daddy's laptop?" The boy's features softened now. He didn't like being scolded, nor did Neal like doing the scolding. He'd much rather come home and hug his baby than have to lecture him. Nicky slid off of the bed and came to stand in front of Neal.

When Nicky looked up at him, Neal's eyes watered a little. "I'm sorry, daddy." He sounded genuinely sorry and it wasn't like Neal was _enraged_. Upset, yes. Enraged, no. Not even close. If anything, he was angry with _himself._

Neal shook his head, messing with the boy's hair—so much like his own. "Go sit in your room for a few minutes, okay? I need to talk to Uncle Mozzie."

Nicky sulked over to what used to be Neal's wardrobe. After he'd gotten the news that he should be expecting a new visitor, he'd cleared it out and made it into a bedroom. "Neal, I'm—"

"It was my fault," Neal interjected, giving Mozzie a sad smile. "I told you as soon as I found out that I'd be a horrible father."

Mozzie shook his head. "Neal, you've been a better father than _your_ father ever could have dreamed of being." He glanced off towards Nicky's room. "Have you seen how much he adores you?" At that, Neal blushed a little bit. He _tried_ to win Nicky over at any chance he was given. Yes, he'd raised his son from the moment he was born, but he'd never _dreamed_ of having children. Well, he _had_ dreamed—forever and a half ago. "You're not a bad parent, Neal. Just watch the porn—or rather _turn it off,_" Mozzie hissed under his breath. Neal's face flushed an even darker shade of pink. "The last thing I wanted to wake up to was the sound of two men—"

"Yes, I know. I know what I watch, Moz." He would _never_ admit it to anyone else, but he was lonely. He was grateful to have Mozzie there for him though. Nicky's mom died in childbirth, but… Fortunately, he was actually the father on _documents._ They'd looked him up, did a check on him, and told him he could have Nicky if he was capable enough. Needless to say, his nights of drinking and smoking blunts into oblivion ended abruptly. "You can go home, Moz. I'll be staying home. Today and probably the rest of my life." He looked dejected and Mozzie actually felt bad. He would _never_ say it aloud, but Nicky was the reason he'd been fired so many times.

No one understood that he had family obligations. When he'd been searching endlessly for jobs, Nicky wasn't even two months old. Neal's _then_ boyfriend kicked him out, claiming that he couldn't deal with being kept awake through all hours of the night. Since then, he'd given up on dating. He didn't need the bullshit that came with it. His son is and always will be the most important part of his life. "Neal, who were you with when I called you earlier?"

"One of the higher-ups in the—"

"_Who?_" Mozzie clarified.

Neal understood now. "Agent Peter Burke."

Mozzie nodded, looking as if he already knew. He was known to test Neal though, to see if he was telling the truth. To see how deep the lies ran. He'd done that _once_ and Mozzie nearly left him then. They were as close as brothers and Mozzie wouldn't put up with more lies. Neal swore to him that he'd never lie again and he's kept his promise. "Are you interested in him?"

"He's married." Again, Mozzie nodded. This was a test. Neal narrowed his eyes. "He's a gay man who's stuck so far in the closet, who's afraid to be who he is, that he married a woman." He didn't say it as bitterly as he _thought_ it, but then he realized he had no right to judge. After all, Nicky was born and another man didn't have him. Mozzie forced Neal to have a paternal test done and the results came up positive—he _is_ Nicky's biological father, which confused Mozzie at the time because he'd assumed Neal was exclusively into men.

"Daddy," Nicky drawled from his bedroom. Neal closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "Daddy."

Mozzie touched Neal's shoulder. "Go on. I left dinner in the microwave for you both."

He was turning as if he planned on gathering up his things and leaving. "Moz, eat. You made dinner for you and Nicky. I'll make myself something else."

The short, bald man gave Neal a sly smile. "You just don't want to be alone with the little guy after his _adventure_ into daddy's porno."

"Fuck you," Neal whispered. Mozzie chuckled, bidding him farewell. "Nick, Uncle Moz is leaving. Come here and say goodbye."

Now, Moz glared at Neal, who was giving _him_ the sly smile. "You bastard." Neal shrugged as Nicky came running into the room, immediately throwing himself against Mozzie, wrapping his arms around the older man's legs.

"Thanks, Uncle Mozzie. Sorry I wasn't very good tonight."

Neal's lips parted at the sad tone of his son's voice, but Mozzie quickly lightened the mood. "Kiddo, I love you. I'm not mad at you. Your daddy isn't mad either. _He_ loves you the most, okay?" At Nicky's nod, Neal's lips curved into a small smile. "Don't you _ever_ forget how much your daddy loves you." Mozzie looked up at Neal, seeing the gratitude in the taller man's eyes. "Have a good night, you two."

And with that, Mozzie swept out of the apartment. Nicky and Neal stood together in absolute, awkward silence. "Daddy?" Neal glanced down at his son, raising an eyebrow in question. "You're not mad at me?"

"No, baby."

Nicky stepped closer to his father, wrapping his arms around Neal's legs the way he'd wrapped them around Mozzie's. "Did you get in trouble at work again?" Neal's eyes widened. How could he possibly know that his work-life was pretty much down the drain? Neal repeated the line that served as a prelude to Nicky's question, sighing in relief when Nicky gave up on the topic. "Can we go to the park?"

Neal smirked down at his son. "You're supposed to be sick, little one. I had to call your principal who doesn't like me, remember?" Nicky gave him a shy smile. "Want to play a board game?" Nicky shrugged and ran off towards his bedroom to find something for them to play together. When his son reemerged from the bedroom, he was carrying the _Hungry Hungry Hippos_ box. It was one of their favorites to play because Neal got extremely silly after letting Nicky win. He'd tickle Nicky and kiss his face all over, all the while enjoying the sound of his baby boy's laughter.

Nicky carried the box over to the dining room table and set it down. Neal quickly cleared the table of all his papers and other work-related things, then he set up the game, seating himself across from Nicky. He smiled at his son, who _always_ chose to be the green hippo, which left him as the orange hippo. "Ready, daddy?" Neal smiled and his hand hovered above the lever that would extend the hippo's neck. Nicky giggled and hit his lever first.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Anything I've said about particular locations, such as Nicky's school, are absolutely fictitious. I've never been there, so I don't know what the environment is actually like. Just using it for the sake of drama.**

Peter sat at his desk, looking down into the bullpen. He's waited half an hour and still _nothing._ Hell, he'd waited a week and _nothing._ Today, he was going to make the first move. His heart sped up when he heard the elevator's _ding._ Staring through the doors, he saw Neal step out and walk in. He'd gotten to know Neal over the past month and a half. El seemed to like him—not that it really mattered to him whether El liked Neal or not. She asked him if he'd like to have Neal over for dinner sometime and he definitely wouldn't object to that.

He stood up, stretching idly as he watched Neal get himself situated at his desk. Neal's time in the department had gotten so much easier and Peter was partially the cause of that. Reese wasn't happy with how often Neal had to take off, but he tried to be sympathetic of whatever the situation may be at Peter's request. Neal didn't talk about his personal life and Peter didn't ask more than once.

When Neal sat down, he decided to move. He casually descended the stairs and walked across the bullpen until he reached Neal's desk. He stopped in front of it, waiting for Neal to look up. Peter was concerned when Neal huffed in frustration, grabbing papers out from his briefcase and tossing them onto the desk surface. At that point, he'd realized he wasn't alone. His eyes were wide, lips parted, as he slowly looked up to meet Peter's eyes. "Good morning, Neal."

"Morning, Agent—" He cut himself off, remembering a discussion he and Peter had a few weeks ago. "Peter." That got him a grateful smile from the older man. A few moments of silence passed between them. "Can I do something for you?"

Peter had fallen into a daydream of sorts, imagining how soft and pliable Neal's lips would be against his own. He blinked and came out of it, focusing entirely on the other man while trying to stop his growing arousal. "You remember my wife, Elizabeth?" His voice cracked as he mentioned 'wife.' He was trying to imagine a life where he'd wake up beside Neal in the morning, holding him or being held by him. Neal nodded and Peter continued. "She's been asking me if you'd like to join us for dinner one of these nights." Neal stared at him blankly, so Peter elaborated. "It could be a simple dinner at our place or out somewhere—wherever you're comfortable being, if you're interested."

Neal cleared his throat, looking away for a moment. "Um, when were you thinking?"

"Would I be interrupting any plans if I suggest Friday?"

That gave Neal a sudden pause. "The twenty-seventh." Peter nodded. February twenty-seventh was very special for Neal and he couldn't miss it. "I can't. I'm sorry." He wasn't _too_ sorry. After all, Nicky would be turning _nine._ He'd give anything to keep his son young, to savor all the time he had. "I have something I need to do at home."

He met Peter's eyes. "No problem." Neal heard the disappointment in Peter's voice and his heart sank. "Just let me know when you're free and we'll plan accordingly."

"How about you come to my place with Elizabeth after nine o'clock on Friday?" Peter raised an eyebrow. "Everything will be settled down by then, so we could have a nice quiet dinner together—just the three of us."

Peter smiled. "That'd be great." He took a pen off of Neal's desk and scribbled his cell number onto a post-it note. "Feel free to text me if you'll need more time on Friday. I'll wait for the all clear from you before El and I come over. I wouldn't want to interrupt."

It was settled then. An unofficial date, in Peter's mind. Any time with Neal was time he'd enjoy wholeheartedly. He went back to his desk, occasionally glancing over to watch Neal as he worked. He loved someone who dedicated themselves to their work and that's just what Neal was doing. "Hughes might reassign him to _you_ with the way you've been handling him since he came in." Peter glanced over to the doorway. His former probie, Diana Berrigan, and _best_ agent by far, entered, grinning. "He really doesn't need Caffrey. He's got plenty of other coffee runners and filers." She raised an eyebrow at Peter, noticing how distracted he was. "Planning to sweep him off his feet, boss?"

He grimaced. "I don't think he'd really be into that." He didn't want to say that Neal was flamboyantly gay, but… Neal _did_ have his moments where it was a little too obvious. "I think I'm starting to scare him off each time I go near him."

She rolled her eyes, sliding a file across the desk. "Boss, he checks you out when you get your coffee every morning. Don't think I don't notice these things because I bat for the other team. We're pretty much allies, boss." He chuckled. He'd never thought being a lesbian had anything to do with her impressive perceptibility. He opened the file on his desk and sighed. "I know. Another mortgage fraud case."

Those were the worst kind of cases. He loathed them and how vanilla they were. He'd much rather do something exciting, something to get the blood and adrenaline pumping through his veins. He glanced down at Neal again, noticing how angry and frustrated he looked as he stared at the computer screen in front of him. "What's Reese got him doing that's so aggravating?" he asked, nodding towards Neal.

Diana turned around to glance at him. "Last I heard, he was just alphabetizing things in the database. I don't see why he'd be that upset over it."

Peter was beginning to think it had nothing to do with the database. "He seemed pretty stressed before the weekend. He took off for a whole week before that." Diana was looking at Neal curiously now. She wondered what could have him acting so…_irritable._ Whenever he was in Peter's presence, he was eager to please. It didn't seem like that as of late though. "I'll talk to him and get back to you on this mortgage fraud later." Diana chuckled, knowing he was now using Neal as an excuse to avoid the inevitability of taking the case and solving it.

He walked Diana out of his small office and stood by the railing. "Caffrey," Diana called out, startling Neal out of his mood. He immediately sat up straighter, eyes wide and slightly afraid. She nodded over her shoulder and Peter did the finger-gesture, motioning for Neal to come to him. He couldn't remember ever seeing him so frightened before.

Neal cautiously climbed the stairs. Once he was at the top, he whispered, "Am I in trouble?"

"No, of course not," Peter reassured him. "Come take a seat in my office?" He'd made it into a question, giving Neal the option to bolt if he wanted it. Neal nodded, trailing after Peter. Peter gestured at the chair in front of his desk and Neal seated himself there, his shoulders tense. Peter sat down in his seat, watching Neal carefully. "I actually brought you in here to ask if you're all right."

Neal sat up straighter, his eyes hardening for a brief moment. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He motioned towards the bullpen. "It didn't seem like you were into what you were working on. You looked frustrated and upset."

Peter could've sworn he'd seen pain flash across Neal's features, but it was gone in an instant. "I'm all right, Peter. Thanks for your concern." That was quite the dismissal, but Peter wasn't having it. He knew something wasn't right. He wouldn't push for all of the details, but he wanted to help if he could.

"Neal, you don't have to hide inside yourself. I know life is stressful." Neal sucked in a sharp breath of air, staring at Peter as if he had all of the answers to his questions about Neal's life. "I haven't looked into you, if that's what you're thinking. Your friend, Mozzie, called me the other day. He called me on my personal phone." Neal grimaced, lowering his eyes. "He's concerned about you and asked me to keep an eye on you."

"I can't believe this." Neal pushed himself up and out of the chair, lurching across the room, right hand on his hip, the left covering his mouth. He had his back to Peter, who was slowly rising from the desk. "Just sit down, Peter."

Peter was afraid to. If Neal ran, there was no way of knowing if he'd do something self-destructive. This was the first time Peter had seen him like this and it was frightening. "Neal," he said quietly. He got no response and that was discouraging. "Neal, look at me." He was on the verge of begging Neal to turn around, to look him in the eyes. He wanted to beg Neal to pour his heart out to him so he could take away whatever it was that was causing him so much pain. When Neal turned around, there were tears in his eyes, which stunned Peter into silence.

Neal's hands were shaking and he looked jittery. He'd known how anxious Neal was during his first couple of weeks, but he hadn't been _nearly_ this wrecked. "Mozzie shouldn't have called you. I'm sorry."

Now Peter decided to move closer to him, figuring that if he took small steps, he'd be able to cross the distance. "I'm worried about you," he admitted. "I don't know what's going on, but I want to help."

The Inspector Gadget theme went off and Neal reacted faster than lightning, grabbing the phone from his pocket and answering all in one swift motion. "Neal Caffrey speaking." He was quiet, listening to whoever was talking on the other end. "No, I'll come get him." Another quiet pause. "Yes. I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up a few moments later, gritting his teeth.

"Neal?"

Neal debated on telling Peter to fuck off and mind his own business, but that would get him _nowhere._ He needed someone in his life and Peter was a good man. Mozzie was out of town for the next couple of weeks, so he'd been on his own with Nicky again. Things weren't going very well between them and he didn't understand why. He'd taken Nicky everywhere he wanted to go, took a whole week off from work to spend time with him. "Can you give me a ride?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Peter didn't hesitate to say he'd be happy to. Peter pulled on his jacket while Neal went to do the same near his own desk. The two met up at the elevator doors, waiting. He gave Neal a sidelong glance, trying to determine the kind of mood he was in. Neal was quick to enter the elevator and quicker to get off of it. He paused long enough for Peter to bypass him and lead him in the direction of his Taurus.

As soon as they were in the car, he knew he'd have to say something now. "Where am I taking you, Neal?"

Neal sighed, letting some of his aggravation drain out of him. "Ascension. West hundred-eighth." Peter nodded and started up the car. Peter knew that was a Catholic elementary school and he vaguely wondered what business Neal would have in going there. He looked over at him after they'd gotten on the road. Neal's elbow was on the door, his head in his right hand. "I'll pay for the gas, Peter. You're going to end up driving me all over Manhattan."

Peter reached over without thinking and rubbed Neal's thigh, which sent sparks through the younger man. He sat up and looked at Peter, who quickly retracted his hand and replaced it on the wheel. "Don't worry about the gas. The department keeps track of that. They know we drive around a bit."

Both men were quiet after that. Neal was obviously lost in his own thoughts and Peter kept wracking his brain for ideas. Neal couldn't have a kid. That seemed so…out of the ballpark, he guessed. Neal didn't seem like he was the fatherly type. Maybe he had a younger sibling. That's quite the age difference though… "I can practically hear you thinking," Neal whispered. "You're bound to find out at some point, so I'll just get it over with right now. I have a son." Peter wasn't sure how to respond to that. He thought Neal was gay. Bisexual then? He seemed like he was so into Peter when they spent time together, even more so when they were alone. "He's the reason I need to leave so often, Peter, and I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

Neal stared at him. "I…"

Peter tried to drag the rest of the sentence out of Neal using his silence, but Neal seemed inclined to leave it as it was. And then it dawned on him. "Neal, lots of bisexual—"

"I'm gay, Peter. Don't act like you don't know that."

"All right then." He took a deep breath, focusing on the drive for a moment. "There are plenty of gay men and women out there who have children. No one is going to judge you. If they do, they can come talk to me about it."

Silence lingered between them longer this time. They were nearing their destination and Peter wondered if he'd gone too far in what he'd said. "You might not judge me for it, but some of the kids here aren't as merciful as you are." Peter gave him a questioning look. "Nicky—my son—has to deal with kids who have learned that being gay is a sin. I don't know how they figured it out. I can only imagine Nicky's teacher found out and spread the word around because Nicky's school-life has been miserable for the last few months."

Now Peter understood entirely. "They insult you in front of him." Neal nodded silently. That made Peter's heart twist. Neither of them deserved that. "And your son gets into a lot of fights because of it?" Another silent nod. "Do any of the teachers insult you?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but I'm sure there are things being said behind my back. People like to gossip."

Peter's teeth ground together. Just thinking about the things those children said about Neal made him upset. Neal's son didn't like whatever was being said, so there was no way Peter would like it either. He'd take care of Neal and his son, even if they didn't ask for it. He cared a great deal about Neal and that extended to his son—now that he knew there was a son.

When they arrived at the school, Neal got out. He didn't expect to hear Peter shut the car off, unbuckle, and open his own door. Turning around, he gave Peter a questioning look. "I'm not going to sit out here while you're forced to deal with this. I'm assuming you're a single parent, so I can't imagine how hard this is on you."

How he knew that, Neal didn't know. He brushed it off for now and led Peter into the school. His skin crawled at how religious the school was inside. He didn't mind it at the same time, but it reminded him of things he didn't want to think about. Walking right into the principal's office, Neal looked to his left and saw his son. The right side of his face was scraped up and bruising, which made Neal furious. He immediately knelt down in front of the boy and tentatively touched the marks. "Who did this?" he asked Nicky, trying to keep his anger in check. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd last.

"Trenton." Peter glanced over to the right and saw another young boy who had a bloody nose. "Daddy, I—"

"Just be quiet for a few minutes, Nicky. I need to talk to the principal." He stood up and walked off, inadvertently leaving Peter alone with the two boys. Peter looked down at Nicky and saw a whole lot of Neal there, which took his breath away. He gave Neal's son a small, reassuring smile even as he heard Neal's voice raising in a nearby room. For as calm and quiet as he seemed at the FBI headquarters, he certainly didn't have a problem with voicing his thoughts.

Nicky was looking up at Peter, seeming slightly intimidated. "Told you your daddy was a fag." Peter's eyes widened and he spun to look at the other boy. Trenton was looking up at Peter in disgust. "You're screwing his daddy, aren't you?"

Peter was absolutely appalled by the language this…this child was using. "I don't know who taught you to use such crude language, young man, but what you're saying is very mean." He sounded stupid to himself, so he could only imagine how stupid he sounded to the kids.

"His daddy's gonna burn in hell for disobeying God."

"Shut up!" Nicky lurched out of his seat and Peter reacted quickly, holding the boy back. He was crying in outrage, tears sliding down his cheeks. In a split second, Neal was there. Peter shifted immediately and Nicky was pulled into Neal's arms. "D-Dad." Neal kissed Nicky's forehead, whispering things Peter couldn't understand entirely.

Peter saw the principal standing nearby, her face showing how astonished she was by what was going on. "We're _done,_" Neal hissed, standing up. He took Nicky's hand and led him out of the office, Peter trailing behind them. The principal came out after them, claiming that Neal still had to pay for Nicky's schooling and that infuriated him _more._ "Don't you _dare_ try to come after me for money after what you just let happen in there!" he yelled, startling Nicky and Peter both. "You don't give a damn about my son's education if you allow these ignorant children to say such awful things." Peter saw the tears welling up in Neal's eyes now. "I'm a fag, like the kid said. And you know what? I don't care." The principal tried to speak, but Neal wasn't having any of it. "I'll take my son somewhere he'll have the opportunity to learn fairly. He doesn't deserve to suffer because his daddy's an abomination." He steeled himself, blinking the tears away. Peter didn't know what to do to help the situation, but he certainly wouldn't allow Neal to be insulted again. "Come on, Nicky. Let's go home." He tugged on his son's hand and Peter followed.

When they were outside, Peter quickly unlocked the car. He rushed to pull the door open for Nicky, waiting for him to get situated in the backseat before closing the door, where he stood face to face with Neal in silence. "I—"

Peter wasn't given the opportunity to finish what he'd been trying to say. Neal pulled him into a bone crushing hug, a hug that allowed the tears to fall freely. Peter just held onto him as tightly as he was being held onto, his hands stroking Neal's back. After witnessing what happened inside, he understood why Neal was always so wrapped up in his own world, checking his phone constantly. He could see how worried Neal was about Nicky's well-being and the idea that he was the reason all of this was happening. Wishing he could comfort him somehow, Peter slid one hand up Neal's body until he was able to grasp some of Neal's hair, carding his fingers through the slightly curled strands.

Neal's chest heaved as he let out shaky breaths, but he kept holding on to Peter. He wished he'd done this so long ago, but he didn't know where else to enroll Nicky by this point. He couldn't bear the thought of allowing his son to continue his schooling _there_ where his mind would be shaped to believe that being gay truly is a sin. If Nicky turned on Neal… He couldn't even begin to imagine how broken he'd be if he lost his son because of his sexuality. He's tried to teach Nicky to be who he is, to love himself for who he is and Nicky seemed to know that Neal was trying to convince himself of that. He was proud to be the man he'd grown into, but he was ashamed of himself for all of the hurt he's caused Nicky.

He didn't even have a relationship to exploit, but Nicky was getting bullied. Neal had enough of the bullshit. He'd no longer put up with this, thinking it could get better. He knew damn well from experience that thinking things would change meant that they wouldn't.

He refused to make Nicky suffer the emotional abuse he had when he was Nicky's age. And now that Peter knew about Nicky and seemed to accept him without an issue, he knew he could open up to Peter—go to him for help.


	4. Chapter 4

It was Thursday night and Neal was relaxing in bed after tucking Nicky in. He had his back up against the headboard, his reading glasses on, and _Jane Eyre_ in hand. He'd spend each night reading as many pages as he could when given the chance. Nicky's been exhausted since Neal took him out of school, but he did get to spend more time with his father. With Peter's expressed approval, Neal was allowed to bring Nicky in for as long as he needed until he was able to get Nicky enrolled in a better school. It was extremely generous of Peter and he told him repeatedly how appreciative he was.

His phone buzzed, indicating a text message. He set his book down and reached out to the nightstand, grabbing his phone. He smiled a little when he saw that it was from Peter. "_Hey, Neal. Just thinking about you._"

Monday morning had changed a lot in their relationship. He'd been able to see into Neal's life, meet Neal's son, and watch Neal fall apart. Neal was embarrassed by letting his walls down so easily around Peter, but he quickly tossed the thought aside. It was _nice_ to be able to cry without worrying that he'd look pathetic. Peter even offered to spend the night with him because he was afraid Neal would fall apart without him. That night resulted in continuous text messages until well into the next morning.

Smiling, Neal replied, "Thinking about you, too."

He wasn't sure what he was trying to imply with his reply, but he was very interested in Peter. Right now, the man of his desire was off limits. Elizabeth Burke deserved to live happily and Neal wouldn't destroy their marriage if they wanted to keep it intact—not that he wanted to destroy it regardless. He really liked both of them, so the last thing he wanted to do was hurt one or both of them.

He was just about to start reading again when someone knocked on his door. He figured it had to be June, so he got up without worrying about his lack of proper attire. June was always grateful that he had his pants on and he assured her he wouldn't be strutting around in his birthday suit with Nicky in the other room. He pulled the door open and, before he could say anything, the visitor spoke. "Hey." That one word held so much anxiety in it, so much…uncertainty.

"Hey, Peter," he breathed. Now he felt ridiculous. He was wearing his sleep pants, but he had no shirt on. Remembering his manners, he asked, "Do you want to come in?" Peter nodded, entering when Neal moved aside. He shut the door quietly while Peter looked around. "Nicky's asleep. Is everything okay?"

Peter sighed. "I'm not sure, to be honest." He turned his full gaze on Neal, staring into his very soul. "I don't know why I'm here, but I felt compelled to…to see you." Neal watched Peter's eyes drift down his chest and even further south. He blinked, snapping himself out of his Neal-induced arousal. "I have a lot on my mind and I don't know if there's anyone I really trust with my thoughts."

Neal nodded, understanding that all too well. It dawned on him that Peter had come to _him._ "If you want to talk, I'd be more than happy to listen." He gestured towards the dining room table. "Want a drink?"

"Do you have beer?" Neal tensed up a bit and Peter shook his head. "That's a dumb question considering you've got Nicky."

He grabbed two of Nicky's juice boxes from the refrigerator, which made Peter chuckle. "This is the best I've got, second to water." He pulled a chair back and sat down, sliding Peter's drink over. The two of them opened their juice boxes with smiles plastered onto their faces.

Peter sipped at his juice box, thinking something through. When he'd finally decided that he needed to talk, he did. "Neal, why didn't you tell me about Nicky before?"

Neal raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were here to talk about you." He rubbed his wrist anxiously, sighing. "Because, Peter, I can't lose anyone else in my life. Nicky and Moz—they're the most important people in my life right now." He looked at the tabletop, frowning. "Nicky's mom died after giving birth to him, Peter. I…feel like I owe her so much because she gave me such a wonderful surprise."

"I've seen you with him and you're a natural." Neal blushed, grinning. "He's a very lucky boy to have such a loving, devoted, supportive parent." Peter felt like he was about to turn this into a pity-party for himself. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. The more Peter looked around, the more he realized that Neal had no family photos in sight. Nothing with his own parents or his siblings if he had any, that is. There were plenty of photos of Nicky hanging around. He suspected that Mozzie took pictures of Neal and Nicky and he'd have to thank the short, balding man later, because he loved seeing how happy Neal was with his son—how happy he still is despite the circumstances.

Neal cleared his throat. "So, Peter, what's on your mind?"

"I want this." Neal was stunned by that simple declaration. "I want to be able to live comfortably like you, with a baby of my own." He knew it was wishful thinking on his part. After all, El wasn't able to conceive. They'd been crushed by that realization, but they'd managed. After several, long months of fighting for their marriage, they did pull through. Peter took care of Elizabeth, who threw herself into a deep, dark chasm of depression. When he told El about Nicky, he'd seen the flash of sadness cross her features, but then she said she hoped Neal would let her meet him. Poor El loved children. The only way they'd be able to have children is through adoption, but neither of them seemed inclined to pursue that route. "I want to have the life you live, Neal."

Shaking his head, he denied that outright. "You wouldn't want to live my life, Peter. Trust me." Peter knew there were many things he didn't know about Neal, some things he might never know, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something horrible happened to Neal. After his breakdown on Monday, Neal seemed to hurt more than he should have been, but he wouldn't open up. He only said he wouldn't make Nicky live the way he had to at that age.

"You always say something like that, but you never follow it up with an explanation."

He hoped he'd get _something_ out of Neal, but the way he drew into himself was quite the opposite. "There are some things I'll never speak of," he whispered. "I can't." He said it with such an air of finality that Peter knew he needed to drop the subject.

Nodding solemnly, he let it go. "Neal, how much do you know about me?"

The younger man's brows furrowed. "I know your job, where you were educated, how often you walk or run, and that you're a closet-man."

Peter nodded, grateful that Neal was honest. Diana told him before that Neal was gay, but he'd refused to believe that someone so beautiful, so astonishingly desirable could be his for the taking. "The last part," he began, "is what I came to you for." Neal leaned forward on the table, staring directly at Peter. "I want to tell El, but I don't know how to without breaking her heart." He worried his lip anxiously, looking anywhere but at Neal. "I want to be openly gay—like you."

"Well, first of all, why do you feel like you need to stay in the closet?" It seemed like an innocent enough question for him to ask. He didn't see the harm in it, really, and hoped there wasn't any. He'd considered staying in after… _No._ He would _not_ think about that monster. Never again…

Shrugging, he responded, "Because I was trying to live up to the legacy my sister left behind. She's so perfect on her own and now she's got the whole ensemble—the perfect husband and the perfect children." Neal noted that there was a slight bitterness to Peter's tone. "How could I have come out to my parents? If I did that, they would have disowned me." He frowned, looking directly at Neal. "They had expectations for me and wouldn't be satisfied until I'd achieved each one. They were able to understand that they wouldn't get any grandchildren through El and me, but they didn't see how unhappy I was with El. She's a lovely woman, don't get me wrong, but she's just not…"

"Masculine," Neal offered with a teasing smile. "Or at least moderately masculine, depending on whether or not you're into the flaming or non-flaming." Peter chuckled at that.

He wanted to tell Neal that _he_ was the perfect fit. Perfectly fit, beautiful eyes, dark hair… Peter knew from the moment he met Neal that he would be nothing but the embodiment of a god. "I've never been with a man before, so I wouldn't even know how to survive that kind of relationship." He watched Neal's smile sober up. "I never even messed around with another man. I've pretty much forced myself into sex with El to make her happy, but… It's not what I want."

"What _do_ you want, Peter?" Neal's perfect lips, his perfect and radiant eyes, and that damnably luscious chest would be his undoing. The way he asked the question made Peter want to jump him right on the spot. What stopped him from leaping, pouncing on Neal like prey, was that he didn't know how to please Neal. Yes, he knew what to do to please himself, but making love with another man was in another ballpark. "Peter?" Neal noticed how distanced Peter became and wondered if it was his fault, if he'd said something he shouldn't have said.

Peter licked his lips as he blinked rapidly. "You really want to know what I want?" Neal shivered and nodded, which then prompted Peter to do something risky. He pushed himself over the table, his lips crushing Neal's, his right hand curling around Neal's neck. He was surprised to have been met with no resistance whatsoever. Neal was returning the kiss just as fervently as he was giving it. Peter's heart skipped a beat. _The kiss._ He'd just thought that. He was kissing Neal and Neal was kissing him.

Neal slid out of his seat and Peter rose to his full height, holding Neal against him as their kiss deepened. This was such a risk and it scared Peter. He'd just assumed Neal had feelings for him and he was exploiting those feelings whether they existed or not, but he felt like Neal provoked him—just by being born. Neal broke away, panting heavily. "Fuck, Peter," he said breathlessly. "Nobody's ever kissed me like that before."

Peter grinned at him. "I've never kissed anyone before." At the confused look on the younger man's face, he elaborated, "To me, a kiss is a sign of passion, of desire. I could never feel like that with El."

"But you do with me?"

He could hear the faint hope in Neal's voice, but he also heard the sadness in it. Neal must have been rejected or used in the past for him to actually ask Peter if he felt passionately about him, desired him like a lover. "Yes," he growled. "Yes, I do."

Neal shivered against him and, for the first time, Peter chalked it up to Neal not having a shirt on. That wasn't the case though. He could feel Neal's erection pressing against his groin. It was such an unfamiliar but welcomed feeling—having a man's erection against him. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the way Neal looked, how his lips looked bruised from the feverish kiss, how pink his cheeks were, and how dark with lust his eyes had become.

Peter took the initiative, figuring that if Neal felt this way about him that he could go through with it. He'd intended to take them to the bed and grind into Neal, but they'd only made it to a wall before Peter slammed Neal's back against it. Neal's groan aroused him further as he rutted against Neal's thigh. He felt as though he were on fire, dragging Neal down into the depths of the flames with him. They panted together, Neal's fingers tangling into Peter's hair, Peter's hands on Neal's hips to hold him in place.

It felt good to rub his chest against the perfectly hardened plane of Neal's. He nipped at Neal's jaw, sliding his tongue across the bone and down the perfect column of his neck. Neal threw his head back, hitting the wall, but he didn't seem to care that Peter was sucking at his throat like a bloodthirsty vampire. In fact, he encouraged Peter. The grip Neal had on his head kept him in place, kept the suction on Neal's neck. He intended on leaving a mark—marking Neal as _his._

Neal started rubbing himself against Peter frantically, his breaths coming and going quickly. Before Peter even realized what he'd done to Neal, he could feel moisture through their clothing. Neal cried out, sounding as if he hadn't come like that in a long time. He was absolutely breathless as Peter continued thrusting against Neal's body. His lips trailed across Neal's shoulder until he'd finally reached his limit and bit down—hard. He came in a pleasant rush, moaning into Neal's shoulder.

They both stood still, listening to the heavy breathing of one another. When Peter lifted his head, he saw how much damage he'd done. First of all, both of them were soaked through the fronts of their pants. Second of all, he left _quite_ the hickey just below Neal's jaw line. And finally, he'd broken the skin of Neal's shoulder where he'd bitten him as he came. "That was…so fucking amazing," Neal whispered, kissing Peter's jaw.

"Did I hurt you?" He could see a small trace of blood pooling over the mark he'd made on Neal's skin. Neal shook his head as though he didn't feel a damn thing in his ecstasy. "Neal?"

"Yes?" He stared at Peter intently, smiling widely. "Oh. No, you didn't hurt me, Peter. I'm good." He paused, looking sheepish for a moment, his cheeks becoming a darker shade of pink. "_You_ are good."

Peter kissed him tenderly, with less franticness about it. He could have gone on like that for hours if the drying stickiness of his pants hadn't bothered him, but it _did._ "Do you—?"

"Shower's that way," he whispered, pointing over Peter's shoulder. Peter glanced back, looking at a small doorway that led into a small hallway. He slid his hands up and down Neal's sides slowly, stroking his warm, soft skin.

He didn't want to be apart from Neal, if only for a few seconds. "Will you join me?"

The words sparked genuine surprise in Neal. He hadn't been expecting that, even _after_ their frantic release. "Of course." He eased Peter's hands off of his body, taking them in his hands instead, and led Peter towards the bathroom. Fortunately, the shower was big enough to fit both of them in there.

•◊•

Neal woke up when his son unexpectedly jumped on him. He gasped at the sharp pain as Nicky's knees connected with his ribs. "Holy mother of—" He was able to cut himself off before he could say something he didn't want Nicky to repeat. He stared at the ceiling, panting as he tried to will the pain away.

"Morning, daddy." Nicky was suddenly looming over him. Neal chuckled as Nicky leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his father's forehead. "I love you."

"Good morning and I love you, too, Nicky." He reached up and pulled his son down on top of him, hugging him tightly against his chest. The pain in his ribs was long forgotten now that he was holding his son. "You sleep well?"

Nicky nodded. "I heard you scream last night and it scared me. Were you okay?" Neal mentally cursed himself for being so loud.

The last thing he needed after the porn incident weeks ago was to have Nicky actually see _him_ fuck another man. "I dropped something on my foot. You know how clumsy I get when I'm tired." Nicky was beaming expectantly at his father, who stared up at him curiously. A light bulb flashed on over his head moments later and he sat up, twisting on the bed to lay Nicky down next to him. "Do you know what today is?"

"It's my birthday!" Nicky yelled at the top of his lungs. Neal couldn't help but grin at how happy his little boy was this morning. "Daddy, did you get me presents?"

Neal kissed his son's forehead. "Of course I did. You sit tight. I have to make breakfast and then—"

"Breakfast is almost done." Neal glanced over at where the source of the voice had come from and was shocked to see Peter. He'd expected Peter to go home after he fell asleep. It's what most guys did once they got their fix from him. Neal pushed himself to sit upright on the bed, realizing that Peter spent the night sleeping with him. It warmed his heart to see how devoted Peter actually was—to him. "Good morning, sleepyhead." Peter came over towards the bed and captured Neal's lips in a gentle, almost chaste kiss.

"Good morning," Neal whispered breathlessly when Peter pulled away.

Peter was smiling at him affectionately, their eyes locked onto each other's. "I brought a gift for Nicky last night, but left it downstairs. I got up before either of you and put it in the pile with what you got him."

Neal pushed himself off of the bed, wobbling a little as he steadied himself. He wasn't used to feeling so…lightheaded, light-weighted. It was a lovely feeling though, something that love did to him. It was still way too premature to consider what he felt about Peter love, but he knew their relationship held the potential for love.

Peter grabbed a dark, blue robe off of the couch and handed it to Neal, who was clad only in his boxers. He wrapped it around himself and went into the small storage area he'd built into a wall and retrieved his gifts for Nicky. He wondered how Peter found his hiding place, but figured it had to do with FBI instincts of some sort.

He carried all of the presents out of the storage area and crossed the room, setting them down on his bed where Nicky sat, his legs crossed, beside Peter. "Here you go, Nicky." He leaned over to press his lips against Nicky's forehead in yet another loving kiss. "Happy birthday, baby." Then he was yanked backwards by strong arms, much to his surprise. Peter held him in his lap, his muscular arms wrapped around Neal's waist. Neal rested a hand on Peter's, smiling at him for a brief moment before giving his son his undivided attention.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner at Neal's apartment was quiet. Since Peter and Elizabeth knew about Nicky, he asked them to come over earlier in the evening. Peter sat beside Elizabeth, Nicky at Neal's side. They were all eating barbecued chicken with smiley fries since it was Nicky's favorite. Elizabeth couldn't help staring adoringly at Nicky, wishing he could be _her_ son. Neal glanced up from his plate and caught Elizabeth's eyes on his son. He immediately tensed up, thinking about things he'd promised himself he'd let go—someday. "Elizabeth." He snapped her name so fiercely that he startled himself. She jumped and focused on him, giving him a questioning look. He struggled to think of something to say. All eyes were on him and he certainly wasn't going to go off on her when she really hadn't done anything wrong. "Nevermind," he whispered, pushing his chair back. "Excuse me."

Elizabeth looked at Peter, who was just as confused as she was. "Something's wrong," Peter said quietly after Neal was out of earshot. He looked at his wife. "What were you doing when he said your name?"

She shrugged innocently. "I was adoring Nicky."

Peter didn't understand why that would bother Neal. Unless… "Daddy hasn't had many friends over," Nicky murmured. "He's probably just nervous."

"Does he get nervous when people look at you?" Nicky nodded, taking another bite of his chicken. El and Peter shared a look. Peter had an idea of what might be wrong, but there was no way to tell for sure whether or not he was correct. After last night, he hoped he could get through to Neal, gain his trust. "I'll go check up on him." El gave him a gracious smile. She always loved when he played the hero, but he wanted to see Neal alone, in all honesty.

He rose from his seat, crossed the room, and entered the narrow hallway. He could see the light coming through the bottom of the bathroom door. As he neared the door, he could hear Neal's labored breaths. He was trying to calm himself down in there and Peter was afraid he was having some kind of panic attack. He normally wouldn't have invaded Neal's privacy, but he was truly concerned, so he knocked on the door. Well, pounded with one fist rather than knock patiently. "Who is it?" Neal asked, his voice thick.

"It's Peter. Can I come in?" He heard Neal shifting things around in there before the door unlocked. He tentatively opened the door, stepping in. The first thing he saw was Neal sitting on the ledge of the bathtub. He was hunched over, elbow on his thigh, forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose.

Peter reached out to rest a hand on Neal's shoulder in a gesture of comfort, but was met with a cold, hard stare from deadened, blue eyes. "_Don't_ touch me," Neal hissed, rising from the bathtub ledge. He seemed like a completely different person in that moment and it made Peter's heart freeze over.

The two men stared at each other, Neal glaring daggers and Peter trying to contain his oncoming frown. "Neal, I won't pry into whatever's causing you to act like this, but I'm worried about you." He inched forward, watching Neal cautiously. He didn't want to aggravate him by any means. If Neal did attack him though, he knew he could take Neal down without much effort. "Can you let me help you?"

Neal's eyes glossed over, his lips parting. Peter took that as an opening and rested a hand on Neal's chest, the other snaking around Neal's waist. Looking into Neal's eyes, he could see that something clicked. He lifted his right hand, resting it over the hand Peter placed on his chest. "As much as I'd love to say yes, I don't think now is the right time to let you in." Peter wondered why, then made a great assumption. If he wanted Neal to open up to him, he'd have to leave Elizabeth. Neal wanted someone he could trust with his life, his heart, and all of his dark secrets. He had Mozzie, but he was sure that even Mozzie wasn't aware of every significant detail. Peter could understand where Neal was coming from. As concerned as he was, he respected the decision. Neal didn't want to open up if he knew there was some possibility of losing Peter. Unbeknownst to Peter, he'd opened up once and had been humiliated to the point of no return and he'd hidden himself from everyone he held dear in the past.

The hand Peter placed on Neal's waist shifted upwards until he was stroking Neal's hair. "I'll sort things out soon, Neal." Neal looked doubtful, so he knew he had to reassure the young man that he was going to try his best to salvage a friendship from the failed marriage while building up a relationship with Neal. "I want to be with you more than anything," he whispered sincerely, his thumb gently stroking Neal's cheek. "I want to be the reason things get better for you."

Neal gave him a small smile. "I don't know what you see in me, but I'm glad there's something. I don't want to pressure you into leaving El if you're set—"

"I can't stay with her and you know that. Imagine yourself in my position—in a marriage with someone you don't love while lusting over someone who could be your soulmate." Neal's face was beautiful in that moment. Peter could see how happy he'd just made Neal and he hoped he'd have the opportunity to keep him that way on a daily basis. Perhaps soulmate was too strong a word, but it was the truth. He tentatively leaned closer to Neal until he was able to kiss the younger man, who, once again, put up no resistance.

The kiss deepened and Neal knew he had to stop it. His son and Peter's wife were just down the hallway. He couldn't do this right now, no matter how much he wanted to. He gently pushed Peter back, staring into his eyes, seeing the understanding there. "Let's give this time. If we rush through this, it'll end before it begins," he whispered. "Sort out your marriage, your life. Peter, make yourself happy first." Peter looked like he was about to argue that, but Neal pressed his forefinger against Peter's lips. "I will wait as long as I need to, Peter."

Of that, he was sure. Neal was being honest and reasonable. Peter needed to end one relationship before starting another. He couldn't hurt either of them like this. Cheating on El was a devastating thought even if he didn't love her, but hiding Neal as a dirty secret on the side would hurt Neal just as much. He needed to be upfront with El, tell her about his feelings for Neal, make his apologies, and hopefully come out with a dear friend and a lover he could actually give his heart to.

"If you're all right now, we should probably get back out there," Peter said, wishing he didn't have to end the moment quite so soon. He would rather stay with Neal, even if it was in the bathroom. Standing this close to him, feeling the warmth of his body, seeing the way Neal felt about him was something he wanted to cherish.

Neal nodded, murmuring, "Thank you, Peter," with the addition of planting a kiss on Peter's cheek.

•◊•

Neal breathed in slowly as he stared at his son. Nicky wanted to sleep with him tonight, which he decided he'd never say no to. He looked at the little boy beside him, remembering when he was so much smaller. Now he found himself looking at that same, small child, but years older. It made his heart wrench, thinking about how Nicky was growing up. He'd tried to give Nicky a good childhood, but he felt like an utter failure. He'd gotten a call from Ascension on Wednesday night and they told him they'd taken things seriously after he left. They wanted Nicky to come back, said his friends missed him, but Neal wondered what he should do. Nicky never mentioned any friends.

He'd talk to Peter in the morning about it. Maybe he'd have some insight. He couldn't deny that Ascension was a good school even though he'd completely trash-talked it earlier in the week. He'd been frustrated, aggravated by a phone call he'd gotten Sunday night, and he'd taken his anger out on the principal. He'd go in and apologize for how unprofessional he'd acted, but he wanted the other kid to apologize to Nicky for instigating him.

Nicky's first grade teacher sent him an email to tell him that they were having a small gathering in the chapel this coming Sunday to discuss homosexuality openly and she wondered if he'd be willing to attend. He had yet to reply to that, but he was strongly considering it. This school wasn't terrible and there were probably only a handful of kids who weren't very nice. He wanted to meet the kid's parents, see why they allowed their son to talk like that in school. He'd never allow Nicky to talk to another kid like that even if he were straight. He respected people's decisions and he'd been taught to live and let live. Not that he'd had an excellent example of that growing up, but his own grade school teachers instilled morals in him, morals he'd thrown out the window as soon as he raised his voice in the school.

Stroking Nicky's hair gently, he decided to give all of this a little more thought. Maybe he could reenroll Nicky at Ascension. He just wanted them to guarantee that they wouldn't put up with things like this anymore. After Peter left, Nicky told him that the teacher who'd been watching them tried to stop the fight, tried to make them apologize. That made Neal rethink what he'd said and done. He'd sleep on it a little more, talk to Peter, and then make a decision based on all of that.

•◊•

El laid in bed, waiting for Peter to join her. She'd had a wonderful conversation with Nicky while they were alone and she loved how smart and sweet he was. He told her that he wanted to do something for Neal's birthday coming up next month and asked if she could help him. She'd been able to contain her glee at the thought of spending time with Nicky—but only barely.

When Peter finally came into the bedroom, she gave him one of her most charming smiles. "Hey, hon."

Peter looked exhausted, nervous. "Hey, hon." He joined her in bed and she asked him if something was wrong, knowing that something definitely was. "I'm just thinking about some things Neal told me when we were alone. He sent me a text message a few minutes ago, asking if we could talk tomorrow."

"I hope you said yes." She gave him a stern look. El was a smart woman. She knew Peter's heart was full of so much love and she was grateful to see that he was extending it to Neal, but she felt like this might be more than a simple friendship. She'd noticed some of Peter's quirks over the years and silently questioned Peter's decision to marry her. He seemed happy sometimes, but there were times when he was downright miserable and she could do nothing to cheer him up. As soon as Neal entered his life, Neal was the only thing he could talk about with such a beautiful smile. His eyes lit up when he talked about how Neal was doing, the things they worked on together at work, and now he was thrilled just by talking about how Neal and Nicky interact. He thought the bond between Neal and his son was amazing beyond words and he admired and envied that bond.

El had the feeling that Peter would eventually ask her to talk and she assumed he'd ask her if he could see Neal. She didn't really have a problem with that. It hurt to know that Peter never truly loved her, but she'd never truly loved him either. She had other interests in the shape of a certain FBI agent who referred to Peter as 'boss.' She understood Peter's perspective since she was sharing it and she'd gracefully send him on his way to be with Neal, to finally be happy. She couldn't be upset if that's what he wanted and she knew he deserved someone like Neal.

"Of course I said yes." She smiled wider at him. "He needs someone, El, and I think he's giving me the chance to be someone he confides in."

Leaning closer to Peter, she pressed her lips against his. "Then you damn well better give him all the reasons he needs to confide in you, Peter. You're a wonderful man. In the end, I think he'll come to trust you enough to follow you to the ends of the earth."

Peter chuckled. "I certainly hope so." He pressed his lips against her forehead, pulling her against him. They whispered sweet nothings to each other and cuddled. Peter laid there, thinking through all the possible ways he could tell El he was gay. He didn't want her to immediately assume he was leaving her for Neal, especially because she seemed to like Neal. The last thing he wanted was for her to resent Neal, thinking he'd stolen Peter's heart—which he had, in truth. "El, I love you."

She smiled, rubbing his chest. "I love you, too, Peter."

•◊•

By the time Sunday rolled around, Neal found himself waking up earlier than usual. He was dressing nicely, making himself look presentable. He'd already set out Nicky's clothes and he was waiting for Peter to arrive. Talking to Peter cleared up a lot of his doubts and worries. Peter even offered to go to the school with him on Sunday to attend the meeting, which lifted his spirits more than Peter would ever know. "Nicky, are you awake?" he called out, fixing his tie as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. When he got no response, he sighed. "Nicolas James Caffrey!" He heard movement in the bedroom and was instantly relieved. "Your clothes are on my bed, Nicky. Get dressed, please. Peter will be here any minute."

He tried to tame his unruly hair, but gave up after spending a few minutes with no progress. "Daddy, Peter's here." He hadn't heard a knock on the door. His heart leapt as he quickly finished fiddling with his tie and made his way into the living area. "Daddy's making himself all pretty in the bathroom," Nicky whispered, giggling. "I think he's trying to impress you."

Peter knew Neal was standing right there, but played along. "Well, your daddy doesn't have to try all that hard to impress me." Neal cleared his throat when Peter looked up at him with a grin.

Nicky immediately paled as he turned around to see his father. "Daddy, I—"

"Just get dressed," he said, laughing. He shook his head as Nicky scampered over to Neal's bed, grabbing his clothes and darting back into his own bedroom to dress. "Do you think Nicky understands what's going on between us?" he asked, glancing in the direction of his son's room.

Peter shrugged. "I think he just likes seeing you happy." Neal's eyes widened as he faced Peter again. "Neal, he loves you more than anything in the world. All he wants is for you to give him another daddy who makes _you_ the happiest man in the world."

"At nine, do you really think _he_ thinks that way?"

Nodding, he replied, "Yes, Neal. He seems to know I care very deeply for you and he actually said he hopes I like you as much as you like me."

Neal chuckled. "Well, he sure knows a lot more than I expected him to." Neal was proud of how perceptive his son was. He'd never deny that. He might omit parts of the truth from conversations with Nicky, but he always seemed to read between the lines and see what Neal was really saying—or not saying.

Peter kissed Neal's cheek, resting his hand on the small of Neal's back. "Have I told you I love your smile?" Neal's cheeks turned bright red. "It's absolutely breathtaking."

Nicky came out of his bedroom a few minutes later to find his father and Peter kissing. Neal was pressed against the door leading to the stairway, his eyes closed, fingers gently carding through Peter's hair. He didn't want to interrupt their moment. He hadn't met too many of his father's boyfriends and the ones he met only lasted a night or two.

Neal broke away from the kiss reluctantly, opening his eyes to stare wildly into Peter's. That was when he realized Nicky was standing right there. "Nick—" Nicky giggled when Peter kissed Neal's cheek. The little boy darted over to them, throwing his arms around Peter's legs. Neal could tell that Peter wasn't used to dealing with children just by looking at the terrified look on his face. He gave him a reassuring smile. "Well, we should get going or we'll be late." Nicky nodded, pulling away from Peter to grab his father's hand. What surprised both of the older men was that Nicky grabbed Peter's hand, too.

•◊•

The entire chapel was intently listening to the speaker by the altar who defended homosexuality. He told the audience that they shouldn't judge another human being since God doesn't judge them personally. It was all really inspiring for Neal. He wished his high school had done something like this, but he'd dropped out when he couldn't handle the ridicule anymore. He was sure Peter knew he'd never graduated high school, but he decided not to bring it up in case he didn't.

Peter glanced sideways at Neal, watching the young man smile occasionally at some of the things being said up front. Looking down at Neal's thighs, he decided to take a risk, grabbing Neal's left hand and intertwining their fingers. Neal didn't even seem shocked by the gesture, almost as if he knew it was right. He did flash a bright smile at Peter, leaning closer to him. What made Peter feel better was knowing that he was publicly displaying affection for another man and no one even batted an eyelash at them.

"We had a volunteer email one of our teachers in the last couple of days and he'd like to share a truly heartfelt story with all of you." The speaker stepped down and in his place was _Nicky._ Neal's eyes widened and he sat up, looking to his right. His heart leapt up into his throat. How could he not have noticed Nicky sneaking out of their seat?

Nicky went over to the microphone and tugged it down a little bit. He seemed nervous and Neal felt it as well, holding his breath. "Hi," he whispered timidly. "I'm Nicky James Caffrey. My daddy is Neal Caffrey, sitting right there." He pointed at Neal, who immediately paled when people started turning to look at him. "A couple days ago, daddy got a call from the principal that I fought another kid." He shrugged. "I did, but I was defending daddy. The other kid was saying mean stuff about him just because he's into guys." Peter squeezed Neal's hand, glancing at him. "I love my daddy and I don't care who he dates or marries. I love daddy so much that all I want is to see him wake up with another guy and see him happy." Nicky rubbed his eyes. "Daddy doesn't deserve the bad things people say about him. People don't understand him. He's just like everybody else, but _better._"

Neal's eyes were brimmed with tears, his lips parted. He hadn't expected Nicky to get up there and talk in front of everyone—about him. "You okay?" Peter asked him. When Neal nodded, he smiled a little. Neal couldn't even look away from his son.

Nicky rubbed his eyes again and it was clear that he was crying. "I want my daddy to be accepted by other people. He's not friends with the devil and he doesn't treat me badly." He looked directly at Neal now, smiling widely. "I love you, daddy. You're my best friend and I don't want anyone else to take care of me."

He stepped down from the altar and sped up as he walked back to his seat. Neal tore himself away from Peter who'd let him go without resistance. Neal beat Nicky to the end of the aisle and grabbed him, picking him up and holding him tightly, kissing his cheek. "Oh, baby, I love you, too," he whispered, voice thick with his own tears. He stroked Nicky's hair and smiled when Nicky's arms tightened around his neck. Nicky was grinning, too, even as he looked down the aisle at Peter.

In that moment, he knew that Nicky understood a _lot._ Nicky was the sweetest child Peter had ever seen, especially since he made Neal cry by saying what he did. It gave Peter a great amount of hope. Nicky obviously liked him and he was trying to bring them together to make Neal happy.

Nicky didn't know that Peter wanted to do the same thing.


	6. Chapter 6

Peter was dozing off at his desk. It'd been a really slow day for the bureau and he hadn't been able to spend a whole lot of time with Neal as of late. Reese had him running around so often that he hardly even saw Neal. It was bothering him that the two of them weren't spending much time together outside of work. Nicky had been reenrolled at Ascension after they'd guaranteed Neal that he wouldn't be receiving phone calls about similar issues because there wouldn't be any. The boy who'd insulted Neal in front of Nicky was severely punished, or so he was told.

A sudden knock on the door startled Peter. He looked up to see Neal with a file in hand. "Sorry to interrupt your nap," he said, humor in his tone, "but Hughes wanted me to give this to you." Neal went closer to Peter's desk and handed him the file. Just as he was retracting his hand, Peter grabbed it gently. "Peter?"

"I haven't seen much of you since your birthday six months ago." Neal bit his lip, looking as if he were hiding something. The closer he looked at Neal, the more he realized that Neal looked haunted and depressed. "What happened?" His first thought after that question was about Nicky. "Is Nicky okay?"

Neal nodded, squeezing Peter's hand. "Nicky's fine. I'm fine." He was silent after that. Glancing to his right, he asked, "Can I sit down?" Peter nodded without hesitation, letting go of Neal's hand. "Peter, I don't talk much about my family, but…"

"Neal, if you're afraid of talking to me about them, then don't. I care about you, but I don't want you to push yourself out of your comfort zone." Peter was given a grateful smile.

Shrugging, he replied, "It's not a matter of comfort. I haven't spoken to any of my family members since long before Nicky was born. The problem is that my mother is trying to get in contact with me." Peter didn't understand how that was a problem, but he didn't ask. "She…lost my trust when I was a teenager. I went to her about something serious and she laughed at me, told me I was being spiteful."

Peter leaned forward. "Spiteful of what?"

"My step-father. There were things about him that I tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen to me." His eyes started watering and Peter's lips parted. "She says she's sorry now, but I don't believe her. I don't want to see her, but she wants to meet me next week for dinner."

"Are you planning on seeing her next week?"

Neal was becoming more and more upset and Peter felt helpless. "Peter, I can't see her. If I do, I'll…I'll relapse." He brushed his hair out of his face, sighing. "I used to be a raging alcoholic, Peter. I don't know if it was a genetic problem or just me being stupid, but I picked it up as soon as I hit my first bar when I turned twenty-one." He fell into those memories, all the nightmares that followed him into his sleep even after he drank. "I found out about Nicky and decided things needed to change. Mozzie gave me a kick in the ass when I tried to drink my way out of taking custody." He smiled nostalgically. "If he hadn't put me into rehab, I wouldn't have Nicky. I have a glass of wine here and there, but I try to stay away from it and beer as much as I can."

"She really hurt you," Peter whispered, staring sadly at the other man. At Neal's nod, he continued. "You don't deserve to live in fear of seeing your own mother. Neal, you're strong. You pulled yourself through a dark chapter of your life and now you're living the life you deserve—happily and with Nicky." He rose from his chair and circled around the desk, sitting on the edge near Neal. "I don't know everything, but I'm proud of who you became after it all."

Neal looked up at him, his eyes watery. "That means so much to me, Peter."

Peter smiled, reaching out to touch Neal's cheek, using his thumb to wipe the tears away from those beautiful blue eyes. "_You_ mean so much to me." He still had yet to talk to Elizabeth, but he was falling for Neal—hard. Neal stared up at him in awe and he was so tempted to grab Neal, seat him on the desk, and kiss him until his lips were bruised. He lowered his hand, fighting the urges he was having. "What do you say to coming with me to investigate a homicide? It should take your mind off things for a little while."

Chuckling, Neal nodded. "Sure."

•◊•

"Holy fuck," Neal whispered as soon as they were on the scene. Peter glanced at him, worried. "Peter, that's a lot of blood." There were no bodies on the pavement, but he could see three chalk outlines as they neared the area. He thought he was going to be sick until Peter took his hand for a moment. It calmed him momentarily and they stood there, observing the surrounding area.

Peter jumped right into asking questions, resting his hands on his hips. "Do we have eye witnesses?" Neal walked a little ways away from Peter and the NYPD officer he was talking to. He followed a trail of drops of blood, thinking that was odd considering most of the blood was pooled around the outlines and dried. He knelt down at the end of the pavement that led down into a small alleyway and touched the blood. It was fresh.

Glancing further down the alley, he saw another body lying near a dumpster. "Peter!" he called out, his stomach churning. He returned to his full height as Peter came closer to him, looking at him, then following his gaze to the body. They both raced over to it, Peter kneeling to press his fingers against the man's neck. He shook his head and cursed.

"Damn, damn, _damn,_" he hissed. "This is Agent Kain. He was observing a suspect of another homicide case." Shaking his head, he rose up. "Whoever killed the other three must have seen him and killed him as well. It was a slower death for him though and I'd imagine more painful." When Neal looked, he saw that the man's face had been practically destroyed, so he had no idea how Peter identified him until he saw the badge lying on the ground.

Peter was frustrated, turning away to growl. He kept muttering things about how he should've known Kain was in trouble because they hadn't heard from him in days. Neal walked past him, past the body, and found a crowbar with blood all over it lying beside the dumpster. "Peter, evidence." Peter grew silent, moving to see what Neal meant. Neal pulled a glove out of his pocket—he'd started carrying them as he became more and more involved in cases—and put it on, picking up the crowbar. "We can run prints on it. I'm sure the blood matches Agent Kain's."

"The other three were shot at though. We couldn't find a gun."

Neal paused. "Check the dumpster, Peter." Peter pulled his own gloves on and did just that. After rummaging through the contents for a few minutes, he pulled his hands out, holding a bloodied gun. "The magazine isn't attached."

Something clicked in Peter's mind. The alleyway, the body by a dumpster, gun in the dumpster. Then he saw a red dot appear on Neal's shoulder. "Neal, move!" Just as he gave the order, a gun was fired. A bullet pierced Neal's shoulder and he fell, crying out in pain. The crowbar clattered across the pavement. Peter dropped the gun and went for Neal, pulling him back as more shots were fired. When he had Neal safely alongside the dumpster out of shooting range, he pulled his cell phone out, calling for backup. Neal slumped against the brick wall, holding his shoulder, hissing in agony. He tried to cover Neal's wound, but Neal pushed him away, telling him to go after whoever was shooting at them. "This son of a bitch must have been sitting nearby, just waiting for us."

Just as the FBI and NYPD cars began showing up at the end of the alley closest to Peter and Neal, the gunshots stopped. Neal exhaled heavily, staring up at Peter who was hovering over him. Agents and officers came down the alley with their handguns out in front of them. "What the hell was that? How did you know someone was going to fire at us?"

"Neal, this is where a lot of agents have come to die. That's the first time they shot at a probie, but this happens every few years." Diana ran down the stairs and closed in on Peter and Neal. Peter glanced up at her. "Neal was shot. Do we have EMTs on the way?"

"I don't need—"

"Yes, we do. Jones called them in on the way here." Peter nodded, his hand resting on Neal's thigh. Diana crouched in front of Neal, giving him a small smile. "Well, you've officially been initiated into the bureau, Caffrey," she teased. Neal glared at her when she patted his knee. He didn't think getting shot at was something to take lightly, especially since he had a son to take care of on his own.

Peter wasn't very thrilled by her comment either. "Diana, I want agents surrounding the perimeter. We need to figure out who's doing this and why." She nodded and went to relay his orders to the nearest agents. "She means well," Peter muttered as he helped Neal up off of the ground. Neal grunted in response, clutching his shoulder tightly. Peter looked around for a brief moment before kissing Neal hard, stunning the other man. When he pulled away, Neal looked pleasantly confused. "Can't think about a life where you don't exist," he whispered. "I'm glad it was just your shoulder."

The EMTs arrived and Peter personally saw to it that Neal made it into the ambulance to have his shoulder looked at. He kept staring at Peter, a small smile on his face. Peter knew that he was slowly winning Neal's affections and hoped his trust came with that.

•◊•

"He was _shot_ at?" El exclaimed, staring incredulously at her husband. Peter came home half an hour ago, distressed. El, being El, asked him what happened and he told her immediately. "Honey, you left him alone after he was shot?"

Peter looked surprised. "No, of course not. I stayed with him while his shoulder was getting patched up and then I took him back to the bureau." At the stern look she was giving him, he added, "Neal didn't want to go home. He _forced_ me to take him back because he had things to do for Reese." He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. "Neal can be very convincing when he wants to be."

She shook her head. "Sometimes, I just want to smack you upside the head, Peter Burke." He raised his eyebrows at her. "You took him home after work. You should have stayed with him. I wouldn't have minded."

He was genuinely confused at that, sensing that there was something she wasn't saying. "El, he's a big boy," he said, depressing himself over the fact that he hadn't stayed with Neal. "He can take care of himself. He doesn't need me to smother him."

This time, she did smack the back of his head. "Peter, when are you going to end this charade?" she asked harshly. He shook his head, utterly confused. She took his left hand in hers, sighing. "Hon, I know you love him. I saw it the moment you first talked about him." He tried to deny that outright, but she wasn't going to have any of that. "Sweetie, I know you don't love me. I also know that he loves you, too." Peter stared at her in shock, unable to find words to describe how surprised he was by her knowledge of his feelings for Neal and Neal's for him. She gave him an honest smile, squeezing his hand. "Honey, don't waste your time here with me when you could be with him."

"El… How are you okay with this? We've been married five years and I've lied to you all this time…"

She smiled, caressing his cheek. "I haven't been completely honest with you either, hon. I play for the other team."

His eyes widened. "You're a lesbian?"

"Oh, don't act surprised," she said, smacking his shoulder. "Yes, I am."

He shook his head, laughing lightly. "I can't believe I didn't see that sooner. Hon, I want you to be happy, too."

"These past five years with you have been wonderful, Peter. They weren't awful and I wasn't miserable. You weren't just a convenient partner either. I do love you, sweetie." She gave him a shy smile. "You're like my best friend. I don't want to lose you, but I don't want to hold you back from the man of your dreams." She took her hands away from him and slid her wedding ring off of her finger, looking at him through her eyelashes afterwards. She held her hand out and he stared in confusion for a moment before removing his own wedding ring. He plopped it down into her palm and she smiled. "At least we can both rest assured that a divorce won't be one hell of a mess. We can be friends, Peter, and that makes me happy." She leaned forward and pecked his cheek. "I'll have all of your things packed when you're ready to move out. Now, go get 'im, tiger."

He grinned widely at her, pulling her into a tight hug. "You can't imagine how happy I am, El," he whispered against her hair. "Thank you."

•◊•

Neal was sitting on his bed with his arm around Nicky. It was Friday night and he always gave Nicky some extra time to watch television instead of putting him to bed early. They were watching _Loony Toons_. Looking down at his son, he liked the peace he saw in his face. When he'd come home with Peter earlier, Nicky freaked out about the sling Neal had on. He promised Nicky he'd have it off that same night and he did despite Peter telling him to keep it on. His shoulder ached, but he didn't want to stop living because of it. The pain would go away.

When the third episode came on, someone knocked on the door. He raised an eyebrow and Nicky sat up. "Stay put, kiddo." He slid off the bed and walked around it, making his way over to the door. As soon as he opened it, Peter gave him a bruising kiss, his arms snaking around Neal's waist. Neal made an alarmed sound at first, then relaxed once he realized who was kissing him. He was holding Peter's shoulders even as Peter pulled away. "Well, hello there," Neal said breathlessly.

Peter smiled at him. "Hello," he whispered. "I have amazing news to tell you." Neal was intrigued and motioned for him to come in. When he did, Neal closed the door and he observed the area, finding Nicky on Neal's bed. "Oh, did I interrupt something?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"Nah, we're just having cartoon night. I only let him stay up late with me on Fridays and Saturdays."

Nicky instantly perked up when he realized who was there. "Peter!" He leapt off of the bed and ran over to where Neal and Peter stood, then hugged Peter tightly. He stumbled back slightly before regaining his footing. He stared incredulously down at the nine year old before looking up at Neal, who was grinning from ear to ear.

Peter stroked Nicky's hair gently, smiling down at the little boy when he was finally comfortable with the close proximity. "So, you had some 'amazing news' to tell me?" Neal asked, walking over to the sink to pour himself a glass of apple juice.

"Ah, yes. I do." Peter grinned at Nicky, who was now looking up at him joyfully. "El and I talked." Neal turned slightly at that. "She's a lesbian, Neal. The separation was so much easier than I thought it would be—and she had me figured out beforehand as it was." The smile on Neal's face made Peter's heart leap up into his throat. "We can finally be together without feeling guilty about anything or having to run out on each other—or hide."

"So that means you and daddy can live together? You don't have to leave anymore?" Peter chuckled, keeping his eyes on Neal. When he nodded, Nicky started jumping with joy, hugging Peter again.

Neal rested his hand on the sink counter, smiling softly now. "Nicky, daddy and Peter are going to have a little conversation in the hall. You can hop back onto my bed and watch some more cartoons. You've still got an hour and a half before I want you in bed though, okay?" He pushed himself off the counter and motioned for Peter to follow him.

"Yes, daddy." Nicky couldn't stop grinning at Peter until the two adults were in the hallway leading to the bathroom, then he jumped back onto his father's bed and pressed play on the remote, leaning back on the pillows to watch his cartoons.

Neal pulled Peter to him, his own back slamming into the wall. Peter grabbed his hips, smiling down at him. "You really do like when I kiss you against things, don't you?" Neal shrugged, chuckling. He kissed Neal sweetly, licking his lower lip when he pulled away. "I hope I'm not inconveniencing you, Neal. I don't want to interrupt your life and—"

"I want you here. Nicky wants you here, Peter. Nicky hasn't been happy about a man I brought into our home until he met you." Peter didn't know what to say. All he could do was smile and stroke the side of Neal's face. "Do you want to stay here? You didn't bring anything with you."

Peter's hand rested on Neal's shoulder. "El told me to get over here, honestly, so I didn't have time to pack up. She did say she'll have everything ready when I plan on moving out."

Neal grinned up at Peter. "August twenty-eighth," he whispered. "That's going to be our anniversary." Peter leaned closer and kissed Neal's neck, sucking the skin lightly. He was just as thrilled by that as Neal was. Since he met Neal, this was all he wanted. _Neal_ is all he wanted.


	7. Chapter 7

The bureau seemed to know almost instantly that the rarely-partnered Caffrey and Burke became an item. Neal spent more time with Peter in his office, but it wasn't like they could do anything. The only thing between them and the bullpen was a large wall of glass. Reese watched them skirt around their relationship for well over a week before snapping on both of them, telling them that there was no reason to hide their sexuality. "You don't have to flaunt it, but you don't have to be ashamed of it either," he'd told them. Peter and Neal were immensely grateful for Reese's _Don't Ask, Don't Care_ policy.

Peter, being that he had his license and Neal didn't, would drop Nicky off at school and then drive himself and Neal to work. The two of them were able to take turns taking Nicky inside the building to make sure he ate breakfast since they always seemed to be running late—which Peter teasingly insisted was Neal's fault.

Neal dropped a file down onto Peter's desk, his right eyebrow raised. "Someone didn't print his report to give to Reese," he began, giving Peter a point look.

Gaping up at the younger man, he struggled to find words. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten to print his report. He'd been typing it with Neal at his side last night. They'd gone to sleep shortly thereafter, but he _never_ forgets to do that. He tore his eyes away from Neal, looking down at the folder. He tentatively opened it and was instantly relieved and thankful. "You're amazing," he breathed, smiling up at Neal. He shrugged, sitting in the chair in front of Peter's desk. He started playing with his watchband and Peter stared at him curiously. That was a nervous gesture. "Is something on your mind?" He wracked his brain, trying to remember if there were other things he'd forgotten—important Neal-related things.

Neal sat up straighter, pulling something out of his suit jacket. It was an unmarked envelope that had already been opened. He slid it over to Peter, who watched Neal as he pulled the flap of the envelope up and the letter inside out. He read it slowly, making sure he wouldn't miss a thing. Obviously, something in here was bothering Neal.

'_Neal, I've been trying to reach you for so long. I miss you terribly. We all do._' He looked at Neal briefly, frowning in sympathy. He looked down at the letter again and continued reading. '_So much has changed since the last time you were here. It's better, sweetie. We've worked things out. I'll be coming in to New York soon, baby, and I want to see you, okay?_' Peter understood entirely why this was upsetting his young lover. He wasn't aware of all the details, but he'd support Neal as much as he could. '_I love you so much, Neal. Love, mom._'

He set the letter down after glancing at the cell phone number his mother left at the bottom of the page. "Neal…" He reached across the desk and took Neal's hand in his.

"She's here _now,_" he whispered. "When I went for coffee a little bit ago, I saw her standing across the street."

He squeezed Neal's hand gently. "Did she see you?" Neal shook his head. "Okay. Did you just get it this morning?" Neal nodded silently, which made Peter sigh. "Why didn't you tell me before we left home?" Neal shrugged, retracting his hand as gently as he could. Peter, though, wouldn't allow it. "Don't pull away, please. I want to be here for you, but you need to let me in."

Neal couldn't even begin to consider telling Peter everything. It hurt and scared him to think about it. How could he bring Peter into that, too? "Peter, I have work I need to do," he said, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, blinking back tears before they could form. He couldn't even meet Peter's eyes, but he also didn't want to. He knew that if he looked, he'd want to open up to Peter and he couldn't do that—not now.

Peter frowned at him. "Neal, this is probably the worst time to say this for the first time, but…" Now, Neal looked at him, but just barely. "I love you. I hope you know that." He gave Neal a soft smile, hoping that might ease the tension he could feel radiating off of Neal's form.

"I love you, too." Neal said it without hesitation, without the lingering feeling of regret and remorse. He actually felt it, which hadn't been the case for nearly a decade. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Peter, but I really do have work to do." Peter sighed when Neal pulled away and stood up. He rose as well and moved to stand in front of Neal, blocking the doorway. Peter was looking at him like he did every night before they went to sleep. He lifted his hands and held the sides of Neal's face, leaning in to kiss him. Neal's hands rose to hold onto Peter's forearms until Peter pulled away. "Love you," Neal whispered, pecking Peter's lips once more before giving him a charming smile and walking out of the office.

Peter was determined to figure this out on his own. He respected Neal's privacy, but he cared about Neal so much, loved him so much. He didn't want Neal's ghosts—whatever they may be—to drown him. "You've spent far too much time on your own," Peter muttered, going back to sit at his desk. He stared at the computer screen for a few minutes. He looked down into the bullpen to see Neal working intensely on some paperwork. The more he watched his lover, the more he wanted to do something against his moral code. When Neal dropped his face into his palm in frustration, Peter gave up. He turned to his computer and opened up a database. He typed _Neal Caffrey_ into the database and pulled up Neal's records.

He was shocked to find a whole lot of nothing there. There wasn't much information on him before he turned eighteen, but he noticed that Neal's father's name was James Bennett, which he found curious considering Neal's last name didn't match. The more he looked into it, he discovered that Neal, at the age of three, had been placed in Witness Protection with his mother and his father's partner. James Bennett was accused of murdering another police officer, which he found disturbing. His current status is unknown.

He looked into Neal's mother, Maryann Caffrey-Adler, and discovered that she was arrested for driving under the influence and possession of narcotics several years ago. She'd been remarried to Vincent Adler that same year. He really wasn't interested in looking up Neal's stepfather at the moment, so he restarted his search and entered _Neal Bennett._ What he found made his jaw drop. He even had to look at Neal to make sure this was him. According to this, Neal's a missing person—and has been for the last sixteen years.

Something terrible had to happen to him if he'd run away when he was sixteen. Several scenarios ran through his mind then, but he didn't know what to think. He felt guilty for prying into something so personal, but he needed to talk to Neal about this and clear some things up.

•◊•

Neal carried Nicky up the three flights of stairs to his apartment and he was never more grateful to have Peter there than he was when Peter opened the door for him. They'd gotten home pretty late after picking Nicky up from school. Peter took them out to dinner and then, at Nicky's insistence, to a playground. It was after nine in the evening now and Neal was starting to get tired.

Peter followed him into Nicky's room, watching as Neal laid his son down carefully before pulling the blanket over him and tucking it in snugly. Neal, on his knees, sighed quietly, leaning forward to press a kiss to Nicky's forehead. When he stood up, Peter was behind him, those broad arms snaking around Neal's slender waist. Neal rested his hands over Peter's, sighing contentedly now. "Parenting takes a lot out of you," Peter whispered. He'd watched Neal play with Nicky as though he was running off of an endless supply of energy. Neal nodded, twisting slightly in Peter's arms so he could kiss his shoulder. "Let's get you to bed, too," he said, chuckling.

The two of them made their way back into the main room and over to Neal's bedroom area. They stripped themselves down to their boxers and both pulled on a pair of sleep pants before crawling into bed together. Neal curled up against Peter's side, his arm draped across Peter's chest. "I love you, Peter."

"I love you, too, Neal." He debated on bringing up the topic of Neal's past, but figured he'd never do it if he didn't now. He nudged Neal gently, which made him stir a little more. "Can we talk before going to sleep?" Neal nodded silently, which meant he'd listen. Peter knew he'd probably be upset in a few moments. "After we talked earlier today, I…pulled up your records."

Neal's eyes flew open and he pushed himself up onto his elbow, staring at Peter in confusion. "Why would you do that?" he asked, trying to sound indifferent, but Peter could already see the panic and anger in Neal's eyes.

"Neal, why are you listed as a missing person?" There. He'd asked.

For the next few moments, silence hung over them both. Neal stared, wide-eyed, at Peter, which made Peter's heart beat frantically. When Neal blinked, the fury was so intense. He threw the blanket back and rolled out of bed, away from Peter's warmth. "That's none of your concern, Peter," he snapped.

He pulled his robe on and crossed the room to the kitchen counter, pouring himself a glass of water. Peter was holding himself up on his elbow. "I think it is," he said indignantly. "Neal, what are you trying to hide? You have no criminal record as Neal Caffrey or as Neal Bennett."

The cringe he saw made his heart stop. Neal's back tensed greatly at the mention of his name given at birth. "I want nothing to do with my family. Satisfied?" he growled, turning to face Peter. When Peter started to argue that he wasn't getting any satisfaction out of Neal's pain, Neal slammed his glass onto the counter. "Damn it, Peter," he hissed. "Just let it go. There's nothing important to talk about."

Peter looked doubtful. "If that's the case, then you should be able to talk to me about it." He could hear Neal's uneven breathing and knew Neal was trying to even it out. Finally deciding that lying in Neal's bed while Neal was so far away wasn't where he wanted to be, he got out of bed. He moved towards the kitchen area, but kept his distance. The last thing he wanted was for Neal to lash out at him angrily. "Neal, why are you missing?"

"I'm not fucking missing," Neal growled. "Neal _Bennett_ is a missing person. Neal Caffrey _isn't._" He turned his back on Peter, arching over the sink. He really wanted Peter to let this go, to forget that he'd read it. And then it occurred to Neal that he had no idea how much Peter looked into his files.

Peter sighed in frustration, moving briskly to cross the room. He rested a hand on Neal's back, saddened by the tension he felt there. It got worse as he kept his hand where it was. "What happened, Neal? You were obviously running from something. I'm not trying to obliterate any sense of privacy, I swear. I'm worried about you and I want to help." He stood beside Neal, staring at his downcast face. "I love you. I'm not trying to hurt you," he whispered brokenly.

Neal closed his eyes, his breaths coming out shaky. "If you don't want to hurt me, then, please, let sleeping dogs lie." Peter kissed Neal's temple, wrapping his arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Peter, I mean it." Now he was crying, his voice thick.

He didn't want to let this go. He was just getting through to Neal, or so he thought. Neal hadn't entirely admitted that something terrible happened to him, but it was definitely implied as he hadn't denied it. "You want me to let you go?" Peter asked quietly.

"Yes." That simple word broke Peter's heart. They were still early into their intimate relationship, but they'd built up an intimate friendship and based their romantic feelings around it. The impact of that one word was enough to hurt Peter after all that they'd been through together. He didn't argue anymore, prying himself off of Neal's shaking body. If Neal wanted to be alone, then he couldn't stop him. He'd be right there if Neal wanted him to be, but he wouldn't push it. He started heading back to their bed, then thought better of it. He went to the bed and grabbed his pillow, taking it over to the couch. He threw it down and grabbed the throw blanket that had been folded over the back of the couch. "What are you doing?" Neal nearly cried out, his voice cracking. The sound of his voice in that moment made Peter flinch. He was staring in horror at Peter, looking as though he'd been struck.

Peter tried to pretend that he was doing as Neal asked, letting sleeping dogs lie, and shrugged, seating himself on the couch. "I won't leave you alone, but I won't smother you either." Neal choked back a sob when Peter laid down on the couch and pulled the blanket up to his shoulder. He wasn't intentionally doing this to hurt Neal. He wouldn't leave the apartment because he was afraid of what might happen if he did, but he felt like he wasn't wanted in their bed either. "I love you, Neal," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Get to sleep, okay?"

No words were passed for quite some time after that and Peter actually started drifting off. If not for Neal's labored breaths, he would've thought Neal went to bed, but Neal was still standing by the sink. "Are you still awake?" he asked finally. When Peter grunted an affirmative at him, he quickly walked to the couch and came around to kneel in front of Peter. Peter opened his eyes to find himself looking into the tear-filled, pale blue eyes of his lover. "I was raped, Peter," he whispered so quietly that Peter almost didn't hear him. "I was thirteen when it happened."

Peter pushed himself up and Neal flinched until Peter pulled Neal up onto the couch with him. "Neal, I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, wishing he hadn't brought this up after all. "If you don't want to continue—"

"I can't keep this from you. Not anymore. Not when I think I could spend the rest of my life with you." Neal stared at him intensely. "The man my mother married, Vincent Adler…" he trailed off. Peter had an idea of where this was going. "He was a monster, Peter. A fucking _monster._" Neal shuddered and Peter pulled him closer, holding him against his side. "He'd come into my bedroom after my mother was asleep and he'd touch me, threatening to kill my mom if I so much as whimpered." Peter was horrified. Neal couldn't look at him, instead choosing to stare down at his hands. "When he got tired of touching me, he'd… He'd make me touch him. That was how it started, anyway." What surprised Peter was that Neal took his hand, intertwining their fingers tightly. "Because I'd been such a good boy, according to him, he felt like he should reward me. He told mom he'd take me to an amusement park to bond with me." Peter's mind melted. He couldn't believe this. Well, he could, but he couldn't imagine why someone would want to hurt someone so young. "I don't remember where we were, but he hurt me. He hurt me _so_ much."

Peter kissed his jaw, squeezing his fingers. Neal went silent after that and Peter had the feeling that Neal was getting lost in that nightmare. "He can't hurt you now, Neal," he whispered. As an afterthought he added, "And he never will again as long as I'm breathing."

Neal smiled sadly. He didn't want to continue, but he had to. Peter knew this much, so he might as well hear the rest. So far, he hadn't run out of the room screaming at him, calling him a dirty whore. "That was the first time he raped me, Peter. I won't describe it to you, to save you from at least that small amount of pain, but… He kept it up for a little over two years. He lied to my mom, told her he was bonding with me each and every time he took me somewhere to be alone." He rubbed Peter's hand with his thumb. "When I turned sixteen, I ran. I didn't even look back. I stole his car, his money, and _ran._" He could remember it as though it were yesterday. The rain pouring down the windshield, lightning snapping like a whip overhead. "I went to a clinic first. I needed…needed to know if he'd given me something."

Peter vaguely realized he should care about that, but he found himself not caring. Neal seemed healthy, so he must be all right. "The doctor scared me, called me a few days later to tell me I had AIDS." Peter gasped at that, but Neal was quick to continue. "I don't, Peter, I promise. He was scamming me and I lost a lot of Adler's money trying to get in on tests for cures and such." He shook his head, sighing. "I was such a stupid kid." He looked up at Peter, realizing that Peter was tearing up now. "I went to someone more reliable and that was when I was told I didn't have AIDS, but I did have Chlamydia. I took the antibiotics he prescribed to me and told him I'd try to pay him soon, but…he let me go with no charge."

"Maybe he understood what the situation might've been," Peter offered, kissing Neal's hair.

Neal nodded. "I think so, but I think he knew that my 'partner' didn't have my consent. He noticed things that I wasn't aware of and he made sure I was taken care of. I go down there every six months to get tested just to be sure."

In that moment, Peter promised himself that he'd never put that kind of fear into Neal. He'd never take such unnecessary risks with Neal's health, unlike Adler. "I'm so sorry that this happened to you, Neal." He rubbed his eyes with his free hand, holding onto Neal's tightly with the other. "I'll never hurt you like he did. I swear to you," he said firmly. "I love you too much to do that to you."

"I'm sorry that I snapped at you earlier. I trust you enough to let you in. I just didn't know it until now." He twisted out of Peter's grip and initiated a full embrace. He held Peter as tightly as Peter held him and he could feel Peter's love for him. "Thank you, Peter, for being here even though I didn't deserve it after saying what I did."

Peter kissed Neal's neck. "Don't you _ever_ worry about that. Nothing you say could drive me away from you." He stoked Neal's back slowly, sighing. "I don't know how I could ever consider leaving you. You're so sweet, so loving, so…_perfect._"

Neal laughed a sad, deadened laugh. "I'm so far from perfect, Peter."

"Not in my eyes, Neal Caffrey." He slowly separated their bodies, staring down into Neal's eyes, watching as relief flooded over the younger man. He smiled lovingly at him, gently wiping Neal's tears away. "If I remember correctly, you told your mom about this?" Neal nodded. "Have you ever told any of your other partners about what Adler did to you?"

He shook his head. "No, you're the first. I never trusted anyone, never believed anybody would stay with me." He gave Peter a shy smile. "Not until I met Superman." Peter grinned at him, kissing his lips. "I mean it when I say 'thank you.' I hope you understand how much all of this means to me. I…was afraid you'd leave me or look at me like I'm disgusting."

Peter gripped Neal's waist, holding him firmly. "Never, in this or any other lifetime, will I think you're disgusting. You have nothing to worry about. I'm here for good."

To reinforce the fact that he wasn't repulsed by Neal in the slightest bit, he bent over quickly and pulled Neal's legs out from under him, scooping him up into his arms. He took them back to the bed, leaving his pillow where it was. It didn't matter as long as he slept beside Neal. They both whispered their love for one another before Neal pillowed his head on Peter's chest, his arm draped over his stomach. Peter's hand rested over Neal's forearm, his thumb stroking the warm skin until sleep overtook them both.

Before sleep consumed him, Peter vowed that he'd track Vincent Adler down and give him a taste of the pain he'd caused Neal. He wouldn't kill him, but he wanted Adler to know how it felt when he abused Neal's body. He was furious with the man who should have loved Neal like a son, furious that Neal's mother hadn't done anything to protect him from that bastard. He knew how broken Neal's heart must be and he silently promised Neal that all of his love would be Neal's, that his heart _is_ Neal's.


	8. Chapter 8

Neal spent about an hour and a half at the grocery store, buying more food since he had three mouths—sometimes four—to feed now. Granted, he hadn't seen much of Moz lately, but he was guaranteed to come back at some point. He wasn't going to tell Peter that he took the car and he certainly hoped Peter hadn't woken up while he was gone. The fact that he didn't have a license would probably give Peter a heart attack even though he knew how to drive. He'd driven himself up to New York, which put him through several states. If he could do that safely at sixteen, he could drive around Manhattan without much of a problem.

He parked Peter's _Taurus_ where it had originally been in the hopes that Peter wouldn't even notice. He shifted the seat back to where it had been positioned and got out. He grabbed the bags he'd put in the back and locked it up, making his way into June's house. He was quiet so as not to wake June, whose granddaughters were visiting. He juggled the milk and eggs up three flights of stairs and even more so while working on unlocking the door. Much to his dismay and shock, it opened before he'd even inserted the key. He found himself staring at Peter and Peter didn't look very happy. "Um, good morning?" Neal offered, trying to smile innocently.

Peter didn't say anything, but helped Neal carry the bags in. Neal immediately began to put things away, all the while feeling Peter's gaze on him as though he were trying to burn a hole in his back. He bit his lip, waiting for the inevitable lecture. He understood how Nicky felt when he was scolding him now. "What you did was reckless, Neal," he finally whispered once Neal had the milk and eggs in the refrigerator. Neal turned, frowning at Peter. "You don't have a license. What if you'd gotten pulled over?"

"I didn't."

"That's not the point!" Neal's eyes widened when Peter raised his voice. "Damn it, Neal. I know you think you know how to drive, but you _need_ a license."

He had the sudden feeling that this wasn't about the fact that he shouldn't be driving because he's not a licensed driver. "Peter, what's wrong?"

Peter looked exasperated as he stared at Neal. "Do you understand how broken and empty I would be if you got into an accident? Neal, you haven't had a car since you ran away from home. I can't believe you'd take my car and do something so…so…"

"I might not have a car of my own, but that doesn't make me any less cautious, Peter. I was careful. I'm not a speed demon and the conditions were fine." He swallowed hard, watching Peter tear his eyes away from him. "I thought about you and Nicky," he whispered. "I wouldn't do anything to endanger myself."

Peter muttered, "Not intentionally anyway." He scrubbed a hand over his face. He'd felt when Neal left the bed and then he'd heard the car. Neal left his phone home, so he couldn't get in touch with him even if he tried. "It's other people I'm worried about." Neal understood, but that didn't make him any happier. He worried unnecessarily about him, but he couldn't imagine the scenario either. In a second, his entire life could end. He'd leave Peter and Nicky, Mozzie… He'd leave them all behind.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Neal stared at Peter, waiting for him to look up at him. Peter raced over to him, wrapping his arms around Neal tightly. "I don't want to think about losing you, damn it," he whispered against Neal's neck. "I trust you to make good decisions, Neal, but this wasn't safe and you know it."

The door swung open a few moments later. Neal and Peter didn't move, decidedly clinging tighter to each other. "Well, what's this? I leave for a couple more weeks and you two hook up?"

Peter turned them so that they were both facing the doorway. "Hey, Moz," Neal breathed. "Welcome back."

"You got together with the Suit?" Neal chuckled at that. Peter gave him a questioning look. Mozzie stepped closer to them, getting close enough to actually shove Peter off a bit. "If you're playing with his heart, I want you to know I have _very_ powerful friends," he threatened. Neal's lips parted and he found himself unable to form words.

Peter gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm not playing with his heart or his mind. He deserves far better and I want to give him all that he deserves." He glanced sideways at Neal then, giving him a small smile. "I love him."

Mozzie was appalled by that declaration. "What about your _wife?_" Neal realized that Mozzie was a bit touchy. He must have something he needed to get off his chest and he probably didn't want to say it in front of Peter. "I swear to you, if you hurt him—"

"Moz," Neal interjected, "it's all right. Peter won't hurt me." Mozzie gave him the evil eye, wondering if Neal had gone crazy or blind in his pursuit of everlasting love.

Peter slid his arm around Neal's waist, rubbing his right hipbone slowly. "Peter," a small voice drawled from the other room. "Can you come here?" Neal grinned. Peter was getting initiated into the family and Neal hoped it was for good like Peter promised him. Moz looked even more uneasy now that he heard how close Peter and Nicky were.

"Coming, Nick," Peter called out. He kissed Neal's cheek, whispering, "Love you." Neal smiled in response, watching Peter head into Nicky's room.

When the apartment was silent too long, Neal turned to his best friend. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Mozzie accused.

Neal was taken aback by that. "Excuse me?"

Mozzie looked like he wanted to hit Neal, rage in his eyes. "Neal, you seem to forget that I was there when Keller broke your heart," he growled. "You were both in Quantico together and he left you high and dry the moment he lost all of your devotion because Nicky came into the picture. He's in the NYPD, so I'd call him a Suit, too, Neal." Tears were pricking at Neal's eyes as he listened to Mozzie. He could remember the pain like it happened just moments earlier, but he was past that now. He was done with Keller and all of his one night stand relationships. "You can't do this to yourself again. You know that as soon as Suit finds out you're on the missing persons list—"

"You don't get to tell me who I can or can't be with, Moz," he snapped. "I'm thirty-two years old. I'm not some fucking horny teenager looking for a quickie just to satisfy my needs." Moz was infuriated now. All he'd wanted to do was protect Neal and Neal was resisting. He thought Peter might be in the process of brainwashing Neal like Keller had done. Keller acted sweet and loving on the outside, but as soon as he was alone with Neal it became a different story—something Mozzie had indirectly witnessed. He'd seen the bruises and the scrapes. He knew where they came from and why. "And I told Peter. I told him everything. He knows things _you_ don't know."

Mozzie stared at Neal's face, watching as tears slowly fell down his cheeks. "And I thought our friendship meant more to you, Neal," he whispered. "I'm sorry I was blind to _your_ affections." Neal's lips parted and he gave Mozzie an exasperated look, telling him not to do this. "Just forget it, Neal. I thought…" He laughed bitterly. "I don't know what I thought, but I was wrong about you." Neal was hurt by that. He didn't want to lose Mozzie. He'd told Peter that. Mozzie was the only reason he'd stayed sane thus far. Even with Peter in the picture, he couldn't imagine a life without Mozzie in it. "You might be thirty-two, Neal, but you still act like a mid-twenties whore. You're without the booze now, but you're still the same."

Neal's heart stopped for a moment. "Don't you _dare_ call me a whore," he whispered. "Moz, you wouldn't know what love is if it bit you in the ass!" He hadn't meant to raise his voice, but he was furious. "If you were so wrong about me, if I'm such a damn whore, then get the hell out." When Mozzie tried to step closer to him, Neal threw his hand out, silently telling him to stop. "Just get out, Moz."

Peter was standing in the doorway between Nicky's room and the living area, watching silently as Neal fought with Mozzie. He didn't know what to say, but he was just as devastated as Neal was. Mozzie ignored Neal's words and pushed forward, grabbing Neal's wrist and throwing it down to his side. "You don't get it, Neal!" he cried out. "You always tell me you're afraid of relapsing, yet you're doing it without even realizing it."

"Being with someone who makes me happy is relapsing? Mozzie, you have no idea… You don't know what you're talking about." He was trying to end the conversation as quickly and painlessly as possible. He was vaguely aware of Peter and Nicky being within earshot and he didn't need them asking questions. He couldn't even begin wrapping his head around the fact that Mozzie was so…so cruel. He and Mozzie argued now and then, of course, but it had never been this intense, this personal.

"Neal, he's going to fuck you and leave just like Keller did. He won't stick around. He'll stick it in you a few times until you've run your course and then he'll find some other young thing to screw."

"You think being gay means all we want to do is fuck each other?" Neal asked, angered that Mozzie even considered that. Mozzie's known Neal for well over a decade and always understood that Neal's homosexuality was nothing different from heterosexuality. "Peter hasn't even touched me, Moz. I don't need the sex and neither does he."

Mozzie laughed bitterly once more. "Maybe that's because he slept with a woman for a long time. He doesn't know _how_ to touch you." Neal's jaw clenched, his vision becoming watery. He could barely make out Mozzie's face now. "You're nothing more than a prostitute, Neal. You're selling your body to men who don't give a damn about you. You gave your 'v-card' to Keller and then your ass to Pica and only God knows what you did with Fowler. I lost count of all the guys you brought home from bars or wherever the hell you went. Oh, and then there's Kate."

Neal's lips trembled. Mozzie knew every single way to hurt him and he'd just used them all. Granted, the comment about the 'v-card' wasn't accurate, but he wasn't going to bring that up. Mozzie started going on about how Neal slept around when it suited his needs, how he probably got into the White Collar unit for sleeping with an OPR agent. That was when he lashed out and hit Mozzie, knocked him flat on his ass. "You have no right," he hissed. "No right at all." He shook his head and started heading towards the small hallway leading to the bathroom. Peter reached out for him and he brushed him off, leaving anger and despair in his wake.

Nicky was staring at Mozzie with such a hurt expression that, after determining that Neal broke his nose, Mozzie actually regretted the things he'd said. He hadn't meant them, in all honesty, but he'd said them nonetheless. "Nicky—"

Peter startled when Nicky grabbed his hand. "Peter, I want to see daddy." Without hesitating, he nodded and told Nicky to go to the bathroom where Neal was.

When Mozzie and Peter were alone, Mozzie got back on his feet. "Peter—"

"Oh, now I'm Peter?" Mozzie flinched. "You have no idea how much pain you caused him by saying all of that. I don't care if you insult me or think I'm trying to play with him, Mozzie, because I'll prove you wrong." He stepped closer to Mozzie, towering over him slightly, pressing a finger into the smaller man's chest. "I never want to hear you call him a whore again. You don't know the whole story and probably never will now. He isn't some lowlife piece of shit, Mozzie, and you made it sound like he is. He's the best friend and lover anyone could ever ask for and you threw it away. For what?"

The shorter man glared at Peter. "I don't think so poorly of him. I don't know why I said that. I love him. He's the brother I never had and I just hurt him beyond repair." Peter didn't respond to that. He wasn't happy with Mozzie right now and wouldn't let him stay much longer in case he suddenly felt the need to hurl more insults. "Neal's been nothing but wonderful to me and this is how I repay him. I was there for him when he needed me, but he's never asked for anything."

Peter sighed, throwing a look over his shoulder to see if Neal or Nicky were coming back. "I think it's best if you leave, Mozzie. Don't come back until you think you can handle the fact that I love him and I _never_ want to hurt him." He shoved Mozzie back, but didn't put much effort into it. "He deserves a hell of a lot better than a one night stand or someone who wants to use and abuse him."

"If he told you everything, you mean more to him than anyone—other than Nicky, of course." Mozzie frowned at Peter. "You better take care of him, Peter. If you destroy him, I don't think I'll be able to pick up the pieces this time."

Keller, whoever he may be, must have broken Neal. Peter assumed that Keller was the first real relationship Neal had with a man and that Neal probably fell head over heels for the wrong kind of guy. "There won't be any pieces left behind this time," Peter said softly. "I guarantee that I will keep him in one piece for a very, very long time."

Mozzie nodded and slipped out without further comment. Peter stood where he was, staring at the door Mozzie exited through. He remembered Neal telling him how close they were, telling him how losing Mozzie would dishevel his world. Finally meeting with Mozzie for more than five seconds of him passing through or dropping off something for Neal, he didn't understand how they had such a close friendship that had been built for years upon years when all of that was thrown away in a matter of minutes. "Peter," Nicky's small voice whispered, saddened. Peter immediately turned to face the young boy. "Daddy needs you. He let me in the bathroom, but he wouldn't talk to me. He's just sitting on the floor against the tub."

"I'll go check on him. You pick out a movie the three of us can watch. It'll help him feel better if we take his mind off things." Nicky nodded, running over to the collection of Disney movies. He started skimming through the cases while Peter cautiously made his way towards the bathroom. He looked around the corner of the doorway before actually going in. "Neal?"

"I heard what you said," he whispered hoarsely, finally looking at Peter. Peter knelt beside him, stroking Neal's hair. "You really think I'm the best?"

Peter smiled, chuckling. "Of course I do. Nothing's better than waking up to you humming cartoon tunes while cooking breakfast for the three of us. There's no sweeter touch than those that you give me when we're alone. You're so kind and gentle, Neal." He wasn't the type to get very emotional if he could avoid it, but Neal deserved to hear this. "I'm lucky to have you. Even if you leave me someday, at least I'll know I was lucky enough to have had the chance to find love with you." Neal was smiling now. "I truly love you and I want nothing more than to stay right where I am—with you. You and Nicky."

Neal's smile fell a few moments later. "I really fucked this morning up, didn't I? I scared you by taking the car and I lashed out at Moz."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he reassured Neal, sitting beside him, rubbing his thigh. Neal watched Peter's hand, loving the warm sensations Peter left on his thigh. "We'll work on getting you a permit and then your license so I don't have to have a panic attack every time you want to get up before the crack of dawn to go grocery shopping." He gave Neal a teasing smile, kissing his nose. He sobered up after a second. "As for Mozzie, I don't know what to tell you. That wasn't your fault either and I agree that he had no right to say any of that. I can't say that it's for the best because I know he means a lot to you, but I don't want to see him hurt you like that again."

Neal shifted closer to Peter, who wrapped his arms around Neal, holding him close. He breathed slowly, closing his eyes as he pressed his face into the crook of Peter's neck. "You're not the only lucky one in this relationship, Burke," he murmured. Peter chuckled at that, rubbing Neal's shoulder now. "I love you, Peter, more than I've ever loved anyone else."

Nicky came in just as Peter said, "I love you as though I've fallen in love for the first time—and this truly is the first time."

"I picked out a movie," Nicky said quietly, looking down at the man who held his father like he'd been held when he was scared in the middle of the night.

Neal always ran to Nicky even if he didn't think he was needed. If Nicky screamed or cried, he was there. He'd rock Nicky back and forth until he was asleep again and then he'd fall asleep on the small bed, cramping his legs. The sight before Nicky made him appreciate Peter all the more. He was used to seeing his daddy sad and alone. Watching someone hold him lovingly, care for him, made Nicky happy. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Neal truly happy, but it didn't matter. If his daddy was happy, so was he.

"All right," Neal replied, pushing himself off of Peter. The two of them stood together, looking perfect in Nicky's young eyes. He could see himself calling Peter 'daddy two' or something of that nature. Nicky grabbed both of their hands and led them out into the living area. "What are we watching?" Neal asked as he plopped down onto his bed. He and Peter seemed to automatically curl into one another while Nicky grabbed the remote.

He turned to look at Peter and his father, _seeing_ how perfect they were for each other and that they'd be together for a long time. The couple in this movie made him think of his father and Peter. "I want to watch _Up._"


	9. Chapter 9

Neal sat down on a bench in Central Park, staring ahead exasperatedly. It was almost November, nearly three months after he and Mozzie had their falling out. Beginning about two weeks ago, he'd been receiving cryptic text messages and emails, which led him to the park now. Nicky was in school and he'd left Peter at work, claiming he was going out for a coffee run, which meant he'd have to actually _do_ that after this.

Someone sat on the bench behind him and he waited patiently, but eventually got a little irritated. "Moz, if you wanted to meet, you didn't have to go to such great—" He'd turned around and hadn't been met with Mozzie's familiar face. Instead, he found a man he recognized from his past, a friend of Adler's. "Craig," he whispered, his eyes widening.

He pulled a gun out of his suit jacket, scaring Neal instantly. "You didn't hide yourself very well," Craig said, moving the gun closer to Neal's chest. "Vincent knows where you are. He's got your mother right now. Who knows what he'll do if he can't get to you…" That statement was left open-ended and it bothered Neal. For as much as he resented his mother, she is his mother. He couldn't let Adler hurt her if all he wanted was a face-to-face with him after sixteen years.

Neal swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between Craig's face and the gun. "When and where?"

Craig smiled. "Stonewall." Neal cringed inwardly at that, knowing what angle Adler was playing now. "Tonight, eight o'clock. Come alone." Craig stood up, waving his gun slightly, indicating that he wanted Neal to do the same. Both men ended up chest to chest , the gun pressed against Neal's abdomen. He tried to look defiant, but knew he was failing miserably. When the older man pressed his lips against Neal's, Neal shoved him back. Craig immediately replaced the gun by Neal's midsection. "This must be why Vince finds you so damn appealing," he muttered. "You're a feisty thing." Neal felt sick. They talked about him together and it made his skin crawl. "Stay still," he ordered, jabbing the gun into Neal's stomach. Craig leaned closer, his free hand winding around Neal's neck, coming up to grip his hair tightly. He licked Neal's lips and, since he was refusing to open his mouth to this bastard, delighted in biting those soft, luscious lips.

Panic surged through Neal and all he could think about were the times when Adler had done this to him. He'd have Neal pressed against the wall, and then he'd start sucking at his neck before shifting over to take his lips. Neal remembered his lips bleeding almost every night after all that Adler did. His palms and knees started aching, making him feel as though he was in that same position again.

He closed his eyes and tried to think about Peter, about how Peter would touch him as though he were fragile, how Peter kissed him when they laid together in bed after Nicky went to sleep. They still hadn't had sex and both of them seemed content without it. Peter was beginning to ask questions about it, the most common being, "Do you think you're ready?" It wasn't meant to sounding demeaning, but Neal felt as though he was being silly about all of this, all the fear.

Craig pulled away from Neal, shoving the gun into the back of his jeans. He gave Neal one last, longing look before reminding him of the time and place Adler wanted to meet. Neal didn't move when Craig did, instead choosing to play it safe. If he didn't move, there was a good chance Craig wouldn't shoot him. "I'll be there," he muttered as Craig left the park, leaving him standing there feeling like an absolute fool—or failure, for that matter.

As soon as he knew he was alone, he felt the oncoming panic attack and seated himself back on the bench, arching forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his head in between his hands. He felt tears pricking at his eyes, but he couldn't do this here. He closed his eyes, trying to even out his breathing. His hands were shaking and it was frustrating him. After sixteen years, he felt like he should have _some_ inkling of control over the situation.

Then his phone started ringing. It was a generic ringtone now. He was waiting for the right time to change it to something meaningful, something he and Peter could share. Despite the shaking, he managed to pull his phone out and answer breathlessly, "Caffrey."

"_Neal, you've been gone for half an hour. Are you all right?_" It was Peter. He exhaled in relief, shaking his head. He didn't know how to respond, but he was grateful to know that Peter was there, waiting for him. Even if he couldn't tell Peter about this little meeting, he knew Peter would hold him during the night and kiss him to soothe him. "_Neal, are you okay? Neal?_"

He shook himself out of his side thoughts. "Peter," he said quietly. "I'm fine. I'll be back in a few minutes." He had the feeling that Peter knew something was wrong and had a pretty good idea as to what would be the topic of their conversation when he came back. "I love you. I'll see you soon."

Peter sighed. "_Love you, Neal. See you in a few._"

Neal disconnected the call and bit his lip. He didn't like lying, but this wasn't lying. Lying didn't include omitting details that weren't questioned. He'd say… He'd tell Peter that he'd dropped the coffee as he was leaving and had to wait to get another round. Maybe Peter would buy that. He certainly hoped so because he didn't want to explain all of this to Peter, knowing how Peter would react as soon as he mentioned Adler.

He got up and made his way over to a nearby coffee shop, waiting patiently in line.

•◊•

It felt strange, being in Peter's old house. Elizabeth still lived there, but it was still strange. He loved the woman and had repeatedly thanked her for all that she'd had to give up to let Peter go. She was tired of him having to go back and forth between the house and Neal's apartment, so she called Neal since he'd gotten out of work early. He was helping her pack up the rest of Peter's things. "Do you think he regrets leaving you?" Neal asked after taping a box closed.

"No, sweetie." She gave him a sweet smile as she continued folding Peter's clothes and put them into another box. "I haven't seen _you_ very much, but I know how he feels about you, honey, and he's happier than he ever was with me." He smiled at her. She got up from the couch and went to tap his cheek. "You're such a sweetheart. I'm glad he left me for you."

Neal chuckled. "How are things going on the lady front?" He realized how sexual that sounded, but he didn't have to worry about it—Nicky was still at school.

She grinned at him, walking past him to gather up more of Peter's baseball things. "Oh, they're all right. I have my sights set on someone in particular and it looks like things might be going very well." She brought a baseball cap over to Neal and showed it to him. "If you wear this, you'll turn him on easily. So, if you're looking for make-up sex after an argument, here's the key to his forgiveness." She winked when his face heated up. "But, assuming things go well, maybe we could double date sometime soon."

Neal was looking at the baseball cap, trying to figure out why it was such a turn-on for Peter. He shrugged and ended up putting it on. "That sounds fun. It's been a long time since I did that." She laughed beautifully, happier than he remembered seeing her. His phone vibrated and he pulled it out to check the message. His heart sped up before he read it, but calmed down almost immediately.

"Everything okay, hon? You look like you've seen a ghost." He didn't realize he'd given his fear away so easily, but he shook his head, smiling. He held the phone out for her to see and she grinned when she read the sweet message from Peter. "He's so cute, isn't he?" When Neal smiled sweetly, texting away, she sighed. "He never was very good at flirting, as I'm sure you know, but he's such a teddy bear once you get to know him."

"He really is. I never would have taken him for the cuddling type before." El chuckled quietly. She understood what he was saying. Peter definitely looked mildly menacing the first time she met him and she never would have thought he liked cuddling either. "He's so warm at night. He makes me feel…secure."

El put Peter's baseball cards into a small box, putting that box into another, bigger box. "That's what he does, sweetie. He protects the people he loves. I know I never had his heart like you do, but he loves me, too, and he'd never let anything happen to me." She smiled at the pictures around the room of her and Peter. "Because he loves you so much more than he could ever have loved me, nothing will take you from him. You might as well get used to him putting a tail on you."

Neal hadn't thought about that. What if Peter had him followed when he went on the coffee run? "That's sweet," he said. El realized something was wrong, but she decided it wasn't her place to ask. If Neal had an issue with the tail, he would tell Peter. She'd mentioned it to him, noticing the tail on several occasions, and he said he was doing it for her protection. Now that she thought about it, she was grateful for that. It was how she met Diana in the first place.

They were quiet for a while and El chose to make lunch. "Want something to eat, sweetie?" He looked up from the pictures he was holding in his hands and nodded, smiling thankfully. It was close to Peter's lunchtime and she knew he'd stop over. He texted her to ask if she had a problem with it and, of course, she said she didn't. She'd make sandwiches for them. Peter told her what Neal liked as part of a conversation, so she made him a ham sandwich with the addition of pepperoni and melted cheese. She found it odd, but liked it nonetheless. Neal had interesting tastes.

She brought the sandwich, and her egg salad, out into the living room where she'd left Neal and handed him his plate. "Thank you, El."

"Now, in return, I want to see some pictures of Nicky," she said, smiling widely. He chuckled and unlocked his phone, opening his photo gallery. He handed it to her, telling her to slide the screen to the left. She rolled through the pictures, her heart twisting at each wonderful image of Neal's son. Then she stumbled upon one of Peter and Nicky and was just amazed at how natural he looked. "Was this your trip to Pittsburgh from a couple weeks ago?" she asked, showing him the picture. At Neal's smile, she guessed that it was.

"Yeah, that was when Peter got into an argument with some dipshit driver." El giggled at that. "He had some major road rage for a couple of minutes. Scared the hell out of me and Nicky—Nicky more so though."

She scrolled until she found an image of Peter naked. She raised an eyebrow, but went back a picture just in case Neal checked to see where she'd stopped. It wasn't like she hadn't seen Peter naked before, but that wasn't her territory anymore—and she wasn't sure that it ever was. "How is Nicky handling things? I heard about what happened between you and Mozzie."

Neal shrugged and she handed him the phone. "We haven't talked since, but I thought about reaching out to him. Nicky misses him and I can't say I don't miss him myself." He tucked his phone into his pocket, finishing off the sandwich El made. "Peter's been great with him. I've never felt that Nicky was in safer hands," he admitted. "Mozzie was great, too, don't get me wrong, but he has his shadows. Every time I left Nicky with him, I worried that someone might go looking for Moz and Nicky would get caught in the crossfire."

"Does Mozzie disregard laws?" At Neal's nod, she chuckled. "It's a wonder how Peter puts up with him."

"I've gotten into some trouble myself, but I managed to keep them off my record." She gave him an incredulous look. "It wasn't terrible. I shoplifted when I was eighteen. I was on probation for a little while, but they cleared me."

She sighed in relief. "As long as you didn't kill someone, Peter would be fine if you told him about that."

Keys slid into the door just a few feet from where they were sitting and they both glanced over. Peter came in and paused, smiling at the two of them. "Hey," he said. He wanted to say more, but he caught sight of Neal immediately—with the baseball cap. It took everything in him to _not_ jump Neal on the stop. Even Neal tried to restrain himself as he stood up and walked over to Peter. Needless to say, he wrapped his arms around Peter tightly. Peter pressed his face into the crook of Neal's neck, breathing him in slowly. "Neal," he whispered affectionately. One of his hands came up to Neal's head, his fingers curling into Neal's hair.

"Boys, get a room," El teased, giggling. "You're making me feel like a voyeur."

"You _are_ a voyeur," Peter retorted, kissing Neal's jaw. They separated a bit, Peter keeping his arm around Neal's waist now. "So what are you two up to?" He glanced around and it dawned on him that they were packing his things. "Am I officially moving in with you?" he asked, glancing down at his lover.

Neal smiled sweetly. "You're already moved in, Peter. We're just getting the rest of your stuff together." Peter kissed Neal's hair, grinning when he pulled back. El couldn't stop smiling as she looked between them.

She threw her arms out and pulled both men into a tight hug. "Oh, my lovely boys. You look so perfect together," she whispered into Neal's chest. Over her head, they smiled lovingly at each other. He had the perfect man and the perfect relationship for the first time in a long time, and he wondered how much of a rift he'd put between them if he went to meet Adler that night. He never wanted to have to lie to Peter, but he couldn't tell him outright either. Peter was just as hell-bent—if not more—as he was on bringing Adler down.

Peter kissed Neal's forehead and it made him sick with guilt.

•◊•

Neal walked into Stonewall, dressed in a black leather jacket with the collar popped, tight black jeans, and boots he hadn't worn in a couple of years. He was going for the bad boy look, but felt like he was utterly failing. Every man who looked at him seemed to _know_ he wasn't a top-man. He sat down at the bar and asked for whiskey. He'd lied to Peter about where he was going, but said he'd call him in twenty minutes. As far as Peter knew, he was just going to the thrift shop nearby and not a gay bar to meet with the man who wanted to destroy him.

He'd waited ten minutes before a hand gripped his left shoulder and he tensed. "Neal." He shrugged the hand off and turned to look up at the man looming over him. That face had haunted him for nearly twenty years and he figured it always would. Adler made him physically ill. "It's been too long, sweetheart. You're looking good."

"You look as insane as I remember," Neal countered. "I'm here. Now what do you want?" He was trying to pretend that none of this scared the hell out of him, but Adler always saw through him. This was a public place, but that didn't mean Adler couldn't hurt him.

Adler smiled, shaking his head. "Oh, darling," he said with a sigh. "Don't you know already? I've waited a long time for you, Neal, and I want you back."

Neal refrained from spitting in his face. "You're sick," he hissed instead. "What makes you think I'll _ever_ want—"

"Perhaps this will convince you." Adler held up his phone and showed Neal a picture of Nicky. His heart started racing wildly. Adler knew about Nicky. "He's a few years younger than you were when I made love to you, but I think he'll do."

Neal jumped off of his barstool and gripped Adler's collar, seething. "Don't you even _think_ about going near him, you sick fuck," he growled. "I will fucking kill you if you so much as _look_ at my son." Adler gently grabbed Neal's wrists and shoved him back.

"You're putting his life into my hands the more you resist." Neal wanted to kill him on the spot and he wished he could, but he wasn't violent—not by nature. He barely wanted to hold a gun, but he had to and he'd left it at home. "What are you going to do, Caffrey? Give me yourself or your boy?"

Neal turned away, trying to think quickly. He most certainly wasn't going to let Adler within five feet of Nicky, but he wasn't going to give himself up either. "You stay the fuck out of my life," he whispered, glaring at the older man. "I work for the FBI, you son of a bitch. If you go near my son, I'll know and I _will_ take you down once and for all."

Adler gave him a look of pity. "I'm sorry to hear that." He reached up and patted Neal's cheek, infuriating the younger man. "I know you'll make the right choice in the end. You always were selfless." He leaned closer and pressed his lips against the corner of Neal's mouth. "And I know you well enough to expect a visit from you. Don't bring condoms, Neal. We don't need them because you're going to be _mine._"

He shivered when Adler stepped back. He was looking at him defiantly. "You can go fuck yourself." He didn't like who he became when Adler was around. He was very temperamental and out of control.

Adler chuckled. "I won't need to if I'm fucking you." He gave Neal a devious grin. "Next Friday, same time, same place."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Neal feeling hollowed out and horrified. Adler wasn't bluffing. He wouldn't bluff, especially since he had leverage that meant so much to Neal. At thirteen, his mother was his world and Adler used that against him. When Neal hadn't complied, Adler would hit his mom. After the first and only time he'd struck her, Neal knew he couldn't allow it. He'd given himself away to save the woman who laughed in his face bitterly when he came to her, begging for help with tears in his eyes.

This was different. Completely different. Neal's mother didn't deserve the time of day and he wouldn't give it to her. His son was the most important person in his life and he'd do everything to protect him. He just…didn't want to allow his reality and his nightmares to merge into the same dimensions.


	10. Chapter 10

Peter dropped a file onto Hughes' desk, grinning at him like a kid on Christmas day. "Finished this. You can thank Caffrey for that." He glanced out into the bullpen where Neal was sitting at his desk, fiddling with a pencil while looking at something on the computer screen. "He pretty much solved this one on his own. I was just supervising."

Hughes gave Peter a look of amusement. "Let me guess: you want him to become an official agent?"

Shrugging, Peter chuckled. "He's pretty good in the field and I'm not saying that because he's my boyfriend. He handles a gun perfectly _and_ he graduated at the top of his class. You saw his records and the recommendations—even the awards."

"I'll see what I can do, Peter, but it's a long-shot considering he's still early in on his probationary period. I need to get a badge made for him. I'll have his picture taken—"

Peter interjected, "I want this to be a surprise for him. He seems to think he isn't qualified to be in the field at times, so I want him to be shocked when the badge is dropped onto his desk. I'll get a headshot for you to put on it."

Hughes was looking at him strangely and Peter felt misplaced all of a sudden. "You really do love him, don't you?" He actually smiled at Peter. He had a feeling that Peter never really wanted to be with Elizabeth—sweet woman that she is—and was warmed by the fact that Peter and Neal could be so happy together. His own wife was in the hospital right now. He would go see her after he got out. The only person who knew about her condition was Peter.

"More than life itself," Peter admitted, his face heating up. "I know we haven't been together very long, but we were friends for a while. It was like dating him without all of the intimacy. He'd hold my hand occasionally, we'd share looks. He cooked for me on several occasions." Peter shook his head, chuckling. "I love El, but Neal… I can't even describe to you how much I love him."

"You two look good together." Peter looked through the glass windows and found himself staring at Neal with a sweet smile on his face. Almost as if on cue, Neal looked up. When he caught Peter's eye and smile, he returned it. "It's your lunch break, Peter. Go take him out. I'll see what I can do about the badge for the moment."

Peter nodded. "Thank you, Reese." He slipped out of Hughes' office and made his way down into the bullpen. Neal was already getting up and grabbing his jacket. "Hey, you."

Neal circled around the desk and rested his hand on Peter's hip, leaning up to kiss him. "Hey yourself."

Peter felt like something was off when Neal kissed him, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was. He'd wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and Neal wouldn't be in bed with him, so he'd get up and find Neal sleeping in Nicky's bed. It was disconcerting and made him wonder if he was doing something wrong, something to make Neal uneasy or uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted to do was lose Neal.

Neal took Peter's hand, intertwining their fingers tightly, giving Peter that charming smile he adored. It was strange. He was just thinking about how Neal might not want to be around him, yet that brilliant smile seemed to say otherwise. Deciding to enjoy the moment, he grinned at his young lover, leading him over to the elevator. "We haven't talked much since we got to work," Peter said once the elevator doors slid to a close and they were alone. "How are you doing? Anything new?"

Neal shrugged. "I'm happy." He gave Peter a pointed glance, followed by a teasing smile. "Shoulder started bugging me a bit this morning. I took some painkillers for it though."

Peter's brows furrowed. "You didn't tell me you were hurting." The elevator doors opened and Peter reluctantly led Neal out of them. "Let's go home for lunch, all right?" Neal nodded at that, not willing to argue with Peter on it. They'd walked out of the building silently and were silent for half of the drive home. "Are you keeping things from me?" Peter asked quietly. He didn't want Neal to think he was needlessly angry or upset.

"Why do you ask?" It was a deflection and that bothered Peter. Neal was closing up again and he wanted to know why before Neal lost himself in whatever was on his mind.

"Because we don't talk about you much anymore." He pulled over once they were home, put the car into park, and turned to look at Neal. "When I ask you how your day was, whether you're working on files while I'm in the field or at home because you had the day off, you avoid answering. It's been like that for the last few days."

Neal was staring down at his hands, feeling guiltier than he had before. "When…When I'm ready to talk about it, I promise I will." That wasn't very reassuring on his part, but it was the best he could offer. He would be meeting with Adler again in a few days and he had a feeling he knew how the evening would end. He'd come home late after being fucked by someone he hated with every fiber of his being. He tried to tell himself that it was to protect Nicky, but he was afraid to fight back. Adler intimidated him even after all of this time. It would've been the same if Keller confronted him now. He couldn't handle those situations properly.

They went up into the apartment and Neal suddenly felt as though he was being suffocated. Something was wrong. He could feel it. "Neal?" Peter rested a hand on his shoulder, concerned. Without saying a word, he darted across the room, heading into Nicky's. He felt tears sliding down his cheeks, his hand flying up to cover his mouth. This was a threat and Neal took it seriously. There were pictures of Nicky littering the floor, pictures that Neal hadn't taken or seen before. Some of them were cut up; others were left intact with what looked like red marker drawn through them. Peter was right behind him and he'd seen what was on the floor. "What the hell is this?" Neal turned to face him and Peter was taken aback by how fearful Neal looked. He looked like he was on the verge of having a breakdown and Peter was never good with anyone who cried in his presence, but he would try to help fix…whatever this was. "Neal, what's going on?"

Peter rested his hands on Neal's chest, staring into his eyes. "It-It's… Peter, I need your help. I need you." Peter's eyes widened at how desperate and hoarse Neal sounded. He urged Neal to tell him what this meant because he was confused. "I-I lied t-to you," Neal stammered.

"Shh," Peter whispered, his right hand moving to stroke Neal's hair while his left pried Neal's hand away from his mouth. "It's all right. I'm not mad at you. Just tell me what this is."

Neal closed his eyes, unwilling to see the fury in Peter's eyes. "A-Adler. He's—"

"Adler is threatening you?" he asked angrily.

Nodding, Neal tried to find his voice again. "I-I went to see him. I told you—"

Peter knew exactly when this meeting went down. "You told me you were going to the thrift shop, but you went to meet with him." The sudden quietness of Peter's voice terrified Neal. He opened his eyes, silently pleading with Peter to forgive him. "Damn it, Neal!" he cried out, completely moving away from Neal to hit the door. Neal jumped, his heart racing. He could see Keller in Peter. The older man was seething, unable to form words to tell Neal how angry he was. Instead of turning this into a full blown explosion, Peter went with, "Why in the name of God would you keep this from me? Are you trying to get raped again, Neal?" Neal tried to speak, but Peter wasn't giving him the chance. "You told me what he did to you, how he made you feel. How the hell could you go see him? _Alone?_"

Neal backed away from Peter, stuttering, "I'm sorry," repeatedly.

When his back hit the wall, he closed his eyes again, turning his face away from Peter. He couldn't get the image of Peter's fury out of his mind, nor could he stop Peter's voice from echoing. His chest was heaving, his breaths coming and going in a frantic rush. In that moment, he thought Peter was going to hit him. Things got quiet. He knew Peter didn't leave because he could hear his breathing. "Neal," he whispered brokenly. The warmth of his hands pressed against Neal's tear-stained cheeks and gently turned Neal's face towards him. Neal reluctantly opened his eyes. "I'm sorry for saying that to you. I should have shut up and listened to you." He wiped away the trails of tears on Neal's face with his thumbs, trying to calm the younger man down. "I won't yell at you anymore. I promise. Will you tell me everything?"

"He sent a messenger," Neal began quietly, sniffling. He lifted his hands to rub his eyes, but Peter did it for him. "I thought it was Moz sending me cryptic messages, but it was one of Adler's friends. He…was also interested in me." Neal paused, waiting for Peter to explode again. When all Peter did was look at him in understanding, he continued. "He set up a meeting for that night. I went to Stonewall and met Adler. At first, I thought all he'd do was use my mother against me, but…but then he brought Nicky into this. He's going to do to Nicky what he did to me if I don't let him fuck me, Peter, and I'm horrified to even consider it, but I can't let him—"

Peter shushed him, kissing the corner of his mouth. "When does he think you're going to let him do this to you?"

"Friday at the Stonewall. Peter, I—"

"I'm not letting you go alone. I'll be there and so will Diana and Jones." At the absolutely incredulous and panicked look on Neal's face, he reassured him with, "They won't know all the details. I'll tell them that he's threatening to hurt your son, that he's someone who's hurt you before, but I won't tell them how badly he hurt you." Peter kissed Neal's cheek. "That's too personal to let others into and I'm grateful to know," he whispered. He pulled Neal close, hugging him tightly. "I'm going to protect you and Nicky. We're going to lock him up for good."

Neal buried his face in Peter's neck, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry that I lied to you, Peter. I didn't want to, but I was afraid that you'd—" He cut himself off. "I was afraid."

"What were you afraid I'd do to you if you told me?" Neal kept quiet. He didn't want to tell Peter that he thought Peter would want to beat the hell out of him for keeping secrets. Peter gasped quietly. "You thought I'd hurt you, didn't you?"

Neal pulled away quickly. "Peter—"

"I would _never_ do anything to hurt you," Peter said sincerely, staring into Neal's blue eyes. "I'll never hit you or take advantage of you. You're my love, Neal. I'm not trying to scare you."

"It isn't that," Neal said exasperatedly.

Peter nodded, knowing what it was. "Your ex-boyfriend used to hurt you, I take it." It wasn't a question, but Neal didn't bother denying it. "That was him and he lost something so precious, Neal. I've got you now and I'm Peter, not him. All I want is for you to be happy. When you're happy, so am I."

Neal sighed shakily. "You're amazing, Peter. I don't say it enough, but thank you for everything—for being with me, dealing with me, et cetera."

Peter chuckled, kissing Neal gently. "I'm _with_ you, loving and caring for you. I can't say I'm 'dealing' with you because that's not what this is." He gestured between the two of them. "This, this is love. I can't think of anyone I want to be with more than you."

•◊•

"Here." Neal sat in front of Peter's desk after dropping a file down onto it. Peter gave him a sideways glance before opening the file. It was filled with information on Vincent Adler, Matthew Keller, and Garrett Fowler.

He looked up from it and directly at Neal. "What's this for?"

Neal shrugged. "It's about time I gave you everything. There's no need for anymore surprises."

Peter scanned over anything involving Adler in particular. He paused for a moment, realizing that this wasn't something printed off of a computer. This was handwritten. It was _Neal's_ handwriting. Looking at the corner of the page, he saw that this was written several years ago. Neal tracked Adler's movements, how many times he actually moved or was accused of molesting a child. Each and every time, Adler got off clean. Peter recognized the name of the judge and Neal had it written underneath every dated trial Adler went through. "He got close a few times," Peter whispered. Adler had actually been in Manhattan for a couple of days when Neal was eighteen and again when he was twenty-six. "Neal, this had to be painful for you to do."

He didn't close the file, but he did set it down, reaching out across the desk. Neal took his hand and nodded slowly. "I was scared. I always felt like he was going to find me and I'd have nothing to do, no one to help me. I had Nicky the second time he was here and I was a mess."

Peter briefly looked over the files on Keller and Fowler. Keller was clinically depressed and in anger management. He'd been reported for domestics far too many times and had actually gone to prison for a couple of years. Neal never pressed charges against Keller, but he'd written a description of what Keller did to him. It hurt to read these things and Peter could remember seeing some of the scars Keller left. Neal's chest and back had a couple here and there, but he'd found one along Neal's jaw and two on his right thigh. "I can't believe I didn't find you sooner," Peter said miserably. "Reading this… All that you went through, Neal…"

"It's in the past, Peter. I'm with you now and I'm safe. I don't have to sleep next to you and wonder if you'll hit me or tell me to sleep on the floor or the couch." Peter's eyes widened slightly at that. "I fought back a couple times," he said defensively, avoiding eye contact now. "I fought as much as I could, but he was stronger. He was always stronger."

"I never accused you of not standing up for yourself. I just don't think you—no, I _know_ you didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve having your first sexual experience with a sick son of a bitch or having your first real boyfriend beat you senseless because he had a bad day." Neal cringed inwardly, sinking into the chair. "Whenever we get to the point in our relationship where we're making love—and there will _never_ be any pressure on that—at least you know I'll do my damnedest to make it good for you."

Neal's face flushed a bright red and he forced a smile. He hadn't meant to avoid sex with Peter. He really wanted to at times, but he was afraid that it would ruin their relationship. Things with Keller were fine until they started having sex, and then everything went to hell. He trusted Peter more than he trusted any of his ex-lovers. Hell, he trusted Peter more than Mozzie, and that was saying something. "I know you will," he whispered, meeting Peter's loving gaze. "I'd expect nothing less," he added, chuckling.

"You must have really high expectations for a man who's never been with another man," Peter teased. Neal laughed, shaking his head. He told Peter that everything would be fine, that he'd have nothing to worry about. "Oh, so you think that just because you're the bottom-guy, I don't have to worry about anything?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "It might be the same as it was with El, to a certain extent, but you've told me about your sexual past and I don't want our first time to be like any of that."

"I don't worry about things like that," Neal admitted. "I trust you and I know you're nothing like them. That's why I said we'll be fine—you'll be fine. You're nothing if not careful, Peter Burke."

Peter grinned at him. "Nothing but the best for you," he whispered sweetly.

"Boss." Peter looked up at Diana and Neal turned around, their conversation stored away for a later time. "OPR is here. They're scrutinizing the bureau and things aren't looking good so far."

"What's going on?" She looked pointedly at Neal, looking like she wanted nothing to do with him. "Diana, tell me."

She crossed the office and pressed a file down onto the desk. "Caffrey's been charged with statutory rape."

"What?" both men exclaimed at once. Neal rose quickly. "I haven't done anything like that, I swear. Peter—"

"I know, Neal. I know," Peter whispered. "Diana, this is a bunch of bullshit. Neal would never do something like that." He opened the file and read it over. "This is the kid who hit Nicky—who insulted you."

Neal's brows furrowed and he moved closer to look at the file. He didn't know the kid's full name, but as soon as he saw it he snarled in disgust. "Trenton Keller. Son of a fucking bitch."

"You think he's Matthew's?"

Neal laughed bitterly. "Think? No, I know. I wondered why that damn kid looked familiar and now I know why. He's probably in league with Adler in some fashion, for all I know."

Peter was confused by that. Neal never mentioned that there was a connection between Adler and Keller, his step-father and ex-boyfriend respectively. "Keller told me in the last few moments of our relationship that he's Adler's biological son," Neal growled. "So, in essence, my step-brother was fucking me for a little over two years."

He completely forgot that Diana was still in the office. She was extremely quiet and it dawned on him that he probably said too much. He turned to look at her and Peter gripped his shoulder gently. "We're going to figure this out, Neal. I'll personally investigate this."

"Boss." Both men glanced at her as she pointed down into the bullpen. Peter internally sighed. An OPR agent and a couple of police officers came out of the elevator and were headed straight for them.

Peter turned to Neal quickly. "You didn't do anything wrong, so don't give them reason to think you have. Be calm, don't say anything that'll implicate you in any way."

"Peter, I love you," Neal said in a rush.

He didn't get the chance to tell Neal the same thing, but Neal saw it in his eyes as the officers and agent—who just happened to be _Fowler,_ much to Neal's dismay—came for him. "Neal Caffrey, you're under arrest." He was cuffed as he was read his rights. He knew all of this already, but it was protocol to recite it while making an arrest.

Fowler was frowning as Neal was escorted out by the police officers. "Never thought he'd do something like this," he muttered.

Peter was furious. He'd just watched them take his boyfriend away on charges that were obviously false, and now Neal's ex-boyfriend was criticizing him. "Do your damn job and leave your personal shit out of it," he hissed. He'd need to read Neal's notes on _him_ next to figure out what went wrong in that relationship.

"Easy, tiger," Fowler said, raising an eyebrow. "I could say the same for you." Diana darted between Peter and Fowler, pushing Peter back. "Have a nice day, Agent Burke."

He left without another word and Peter was left, seething, with Diana's hands on his chest. "Peter, I know you're set to believe he didn't do this, but—"

"No, there are no buts about it, Diana. Neal would never do something like that." There was no flicker of a doubt about it. After Neal told him he'd been raped and how broken he was when he opened up, Peter just _knew_ Neal wasn't capable of this. Peter could see him saving another child from that particular situation, but he couldn't see Neal participating in that. "I'm going to pull every last resource I can to prove that he's innocent." He moved away from Diana and immediately sat at his desk, jumping onto the computer to do all the research he'd need to do to bring these sinister bastards down. He'd bring them all down, but he sure as hell wouldn't let Neal be dragged down with them.


	11. Chapter 11

Neal had been stuck in this hellhole they called prison for six weeks before he was finally allowed to see Peter. He made damn sure that Peter had guardianship over his son because the last thing he wanted was for Nicky to have to go into a foster home. He was sitting in a cell with a table, a camera looming overhead to record anything taking place in the vicinity, when Peter was finally allowed in. He stood so eagerly and Peter pulled him into a tight, but brief embrace. "You look like hell," Peter said miserably. "I'm so sorry."

"I know you're doing everything you can, Peter." He gave him a small smile to ease some of the tension rolling off of Peter in waves. "How's Nicky?"

Peter frowned. "He's upset. He wants you home and I keep telling him we're going to get you out of here, but he probably thinks I'm lying to him." Neal knew Nicky would give Peter a hard time and he'd warned Peter of that when he'd been allowed to make a phone call. "He's very stubborn, but he's still a little angel. After the anger and tears dissipate, he's fine—or so I think. I make him dinner, which I think he dislikes very much. I have him do his homework before dinner and brush his teeth and take a bath like you had him doing beforehand. It's all routine to him and I think he'll be okay because of that."

Both men took a seat at the table, sitting on opposing sides. "I'm sorry, Peter. I don't know how I got into this mess, but I'm still sorry." He lowered his eyes to stare at the table, frowning at it. "You know they're going to make me register as a sex offender for this," he whispered. "I'm totally fucked. I'm going to be out of a job and unable to find—"

Peter took his hand, squeezing it. "Don't worry about that. Hughes knows…almost everything. He believes me when I say you're innocent. He's been helping me with this. When you get out of here, you'll still work in the bureau. If all goes well, you won't have to register. Like I told you, you did nothing wrong, Neal."

"That's not how everyone else will see it. The kid actually called the police in tears, claiming I'd just…" He trailed off and Peter understood. "You know, it's one thing for it to happen to me, Peter," he said hoarsely. "I never thought I'd be the one accused of doing it. I wanted you as Nicky's guardian because I was afraid they'd take him from me." He actually started tearing up now and Peter's heart was clenching. "I love him to death. If I lose him, I don't know what I'll do. That's my baby and I _can't_ let them take him from me."

Peter nodded, intertwining his fingers with Neal's. "I did everything I could to keep that from happening. Because I had your consent, I share custody with you over him. It's all legal now, so they can't take him away."

Neal smiled at him, his eyes watering. "Thank you so much." He lifted Peter's hand and kissed it gently. "There's no way I'll ever be able to repay you for this. Protecting Nicky… That means the world and more to me, Peter."

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. If you asked me to jump, I'd ask 'how high?' without hesitation." He reached out with his other hand to stroke Neal's cheek. "I love you and I love Nicky. I'm doing the best I can for both of you and I know it's not enough."

"Don't say that," Neal begged him. "It's more than enough. Moz isn't here and there's nobody else I trust with Nicky more than I trust you. Just making sure he's taken care of is enough for me."

The guard outside of the cell announced, "Caffrey, your lawyer is here to see you."

At that, Neal's eyes widened and his eyes immediately flew to the doorway. His heart warmed at the friendly face, sympathy and determination all over. Peter raised an eyebrow at him. "Suit," he muttered. "Dante Haversham." He extended his hand towards Peter just for show. Peter took it and gave them both a curious look. "I won't impede your little affair, but I do want to talk to him alone at some point."

Mozzie sat beside Peter after forcing him to scoot over. "Moz, I'm so—"

"Hush, you," he said affectionately. "I heard about what happened and I know that's not like you, so I came to see you as quickly as I could." Mozzie gave Peter and uneasy glance. "I hope you had nothing to do with this, Suit."

"If I did, he wouldn't want me in here." Peter glared at the balding man and Neal squeezed his hand as a reminder to take it easy. "No, this is actually Keller's doing. His son is the one who accused Neal of rape. Neal was never around that kid again after passing him by in the office the day Nick got into trouble."

Mozzie looked lost in thought for a few moments, then directed his gaze at Neal. "You have bruises," he said observantly. Peter gasped when he saw them and Neal adjusted his collar to cover them up. "They're hurting you?"

"The other prisoners," Neal muttered. "I don't think they'd be very understanding if I said I didn't rape the kid. They take that very seriously and have made my life hell since I got here." Peter frowned at that. He wasn't aware of what they'd been doing and Neal hadn't mentioned it on the phone at any point. "Beating, raping, abducting, or killing a child is unacceptable in this community. They don't want me here and they've made that quite clear."

"All right. This ends now," Mozzie said bitterly. "I'm not going to allow this to continue. I love you too much to let them keep abusing you when you're innocent, Neal. I know I was a bastard to you the last time we talked, but I could never just let you rot in here."

Neal smiled at him and Peter was in mild shock. He understood how deep their friendship ran, how they described each other as brothers, but he'd never actually seen Mozzie quite this…upfront with Neal about that relationship. "It's water under the bridge," he said quietly. For as much as those insults hurt Neal, he couldn't hate Mozzie. Their friendship was so much more than that and he wasn't willing to let it go so easily. "What are we going to do now?"

Mozzie pulled some folders out of his briefcase, laying them out across the table. "I find myself wishing I'd forced you to press charges against Keller because that would certainly help your case," Mozzie muttered. Neal grimaced. "However, there was a report or two about—ah, here it is." He showed the report to Peter, who nodded. "This if proof that he _did_ abuse you."

"What does it say?" Neal sounded very disinterested, but Peter knew this was eating him up inside.

"He tried to suffocate you, bones were broken, and you were bruised pretty badly at the time. Whereas he had no marks whatsoever. He started the fight and you didn't do anything that left marks on him. Also, it says he verbally harassed you in public, claiming he'd kill you as soon as he had the chance to." Moz gave Neal a pointed, disapproving look. "I never knew about that."

Neal shrugged. "I got the restraining order and that was taken care of. Can we use that against him? Imply that this is his way of getting to me?"

Moz glanced sideways at Peter. "It's possible," Peter said slowly. "However, this could be flipped to make it seem like you were getting revenge or some kind of justice for what he'd done to you."

"No," Neal hissed. "I didn't do anything to provoke him. I never once broke a bone or bruised him _or_ threatened to kill him in front of the whole God damned city." Neal tore his hand away from Peter's, burying his face in his palms. Peter and Mozzie didn't know what to do to help him. "If it weren't for Nicky and you," he mumbled into his hands, "I'd have killed myself already."

The older men stared at Neal, their mouths open, eyes full of pain. "We're going to get you out of this," Mozzie promised. "Suit and I will make sure of it. They have the wrong man in the orange jumpsuit." Peter reached across the table to stroke Neal's hair. They all knew what was at stake here. If they didn't provide all the information Neal needed, there was a good chance he'd spend the next twenty-five years in prison and Neal probably wouldn't survive it.

This was a challenge they all willingly and cautiously accepted.

•◊•

A few weeks later, they were gathered for Neal's trial. He hadn't had much contact with Peter or Mozzie since their initial meeting, but he seriously hoped this would be over soon. He wasn't thrilled by the fact that he'd been cuffed and led here like a dog, but he kept quiet. Even when he saw Keller and that damn kid of his, he kept his mouth shut. He made himself look as neutral and passive as he could manage and Mozzie said he was proud of him. He felt Peter and Elizabeth's eyes on him, but he didn't turn around. He couldn't smile at Peter when he felt like he was going to be screwed royally and locked up for the next quarter of his life.

Trenton, the kid, went up to give his testimony and it all seemed to fall apart from there. The kid stuttered and stammered, tripping over his words far too many times. He wasn't looking at his father, but Neal was. Matthew was pissed, probably because his son was failing miserably. "You said he left marks on your body," the judge offered. "Where?"

The kid swallowed hard and started bawling. Neal's heart hurt just watching this. The kid wasn't traumatized. He was fucking _terrified._ "Damn it, Trenton! Finish the story!"

"Mister Keller," the judge snapped, "silence. This is _his_ testimony, not yours." He motioned for the child to go on if he could and Trenton did. He flipped on his father, telling them all how he threatened to beat him if he didn't call the police to report Neal. Right there, he'd admitted that Neal hadn't done anything to him, that he'd never once been alone with Neal. He told the court about what his father made him say to Neal's son and how sick he felt when he'd fought Nicky.

"I never wanted to hurt anybody," Trenton said quietly. "He wanted me to. I can't do this. I can't let him get hurt if he didn't hurt me." He turned to look at Neal then, his eyes begging for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry, Mister Caffrey."

Neal saw Matthew move in the corner of his eye and he lurched out of his seat, knowing he shouldn't have, but immediately grabbed the kid. Matthew was snarling like an animal, trying to grab Trenton and tear him to pieces. Neal fought him off, telling Trenton to run. The police officers broke up the fight, taking Matthew down to the floor. Trenton was standing a few feet behind Neal, trembling. "Take him away and somebody get those cuffs off of Caffrey," the judge finally said. "I already saw the evidence Mister Haversham gathered for us and it's been proven before many witnesses."

Keller was led out of the courtroom and the remaining officer unlocked the cuffs around Neal's wrists, taking them off of him. As soon as they were gone, relief washed over Neal. He turned around finally, looking at the people he loved—Mozzie, El, especially Peter. Then he was hit by a very small force. He looked down and Trenton was hugging him tightly. He gently patted the boy's head. "Trenton, it's okay. You don't have to be scared anymore." He gently made Trenton back away and then he knelt in front of the kid. "They won't let him hurt you ever again, I promise. You're safe."

"Mister Caffrey—"

"Just call me Neal," he said with a small laugh.

Trenton nodded. "Neal, thank you. He would have beat me if you hadn't jumped up."

Neal nodded slowly. "As long as I live, I'll never let anyone hurt their child if I can stop it," he said sincerely. "I know how it feels," he admitted, "to have a parent hurt you, Trenton. I know how scary it is, how painful it can be, and how it can change who you are." He rested a hand on the kid's shoulder. "I'm sorry that you were forced into this situation, but I'm glad it's over for you as well."

"Can you tell Nicky I want to be his friend? I know he hates me." Neal started to say something, but he kept rambling. "He was my best friend before my dad came back from prison. I talked about him all the time and he found out Nicky was yours and—"

"Calm down," Neal urged. "I'll talk to Nicky, but I want you to talk to him, too, okay? He needs to hear from you that you're sorry and that you want to make amends." Peter came up behind Trenton, smiling lovingly at Neal. "Is your mom or somebody here?"

"My mommy's in Pennsylvania for a few more days. My grandma lives too far away. Where am I going to live?"

Neal wanted to ask if he'd like to stay with him, Peter, and Nicky, but he decided that probably wasn't a good idea considering how the situation began. The judge came down and stood before the trio—Mozzie joined El in the back once Neal was cleared. "Mister Caffrey, would you be able to house him for a few days while we get in touch with his mother?"

At the fact that he was being given permission, he nodded. "Yes. I can give him space in my son's room. We'll provide food and clothes and—"

The judge chuckled. "Don't look so afraid," he said gently. "You were just proven innocent. This is a victory and now the right man will be behind bars. Just…"

"I know," Neal said hurriedly. "I won't do anything. I'd never hurt him, your honor. I love my son and…and I…" Neal glanced at Peter, visibly nervous. Peter moved closer to him, resting his hand on the small of Neal's back. Trenton felt that he shouldn't be there anymore, so he went to join El and Mozzie, who were more than happy to talk to him and distract him from everything that was going on. "There's no official record or report or anything, but I was raped as a child," he whispered. "When I said I know how it feels, I meant it. It's terrifying and sickening. I hated myself, was disgusted by myself, for the longest time. I can't imagine making someone else feel the way I did."

The judge gave him a curious look. "Is this something you'd like to take to court, Mister Caffrey?" Neal hadn't exactly implied or indicated that he wanted to press charges against Adler, but he was being given the option right now.

"Yes," Peter interjected. "The man has been harassing Neal recently and threatened to hurt his son if he didn't give himself up." The judge nodded thoughtfully. "We have proof of it, in fact. He broke into our apartment and left pictures of Neal's son there that clearly meant he was willing to go through with that threat."

"If you can provide me with as much information and proof as you can, I'll see what I can do for you." The judge dealt with adults who'd been raped as children and he saw the same reaction in Neal that he'd seen in those other people. So he was left with two options: Neal Caffrey was either a very good liar, or he did need help bringing justice upon the man who'd raped him. He'd decide that once he received hard evidence.

•◊•

Peter unlocked the door to the apartment, walking in first. Nicky was with June, watching television. When Peter came in, he perked up, but then instantly deflated. "Daddy isn't coming home," he said miserably. Neal was the next to come into the apartment, Mozzie trailing closely behind him. Nicky's eyes widened and he screamed, "Daddy!" at the top of his lungs, leaping off of the bed and making a mad dash over to his father.

Neal picked him up and hugged him tightly, kissing his hair. "Hey, kiddo," he said, grinning. "God, I missed you."

Nicky had his arms wound tightly around Neal's neck, sobbing against his father's shoulder. "I'm so glad you're home, daddy." A small, nervous voice said 'hi' and it made Nicky lift his head from Neal's shoulder. He _knew_ that voice. "What's he doing here? Daddy, Trenton's the one who called you a—"

"Hush, little one," he whispered, setting Nicky down. "Listen to me." He knelt in front of his son, staring at his face intently. "Trenton's daddy got locked up, Nick. He tried to hurt Trenton in the courtroom today. His mom and grandma aren't nearby, so we're going to be helping him out, okay?" Nicky looked pissed off, more so than Neal had ever seen before. "Don't pout," he admonished. "What have I told you about being a friend? If you want—"

"—to have friends who care about you, you need to show them you care about them," Nicky finished, making Neal smile. "Daddy, he said mean things about you. Why do I have to be nice to him?"

Neal stroked his son's floppy hair, sighing. "You're lucky, Nicky," Trenton said quietly. "Your daddy loves you. He doesn't yell at you or hit you or scare you. You never come to school with bruises or try not to cry when you're around people who worry about you." He sounded so sad and it made Nicky feel miserable just listening. "I want a daddy like yours, Nicky. He's nice to me even after what I said. I'm sorry, too. I never meant any of those things. I know he's nice. He met my mom at the open house last year." Neal remembered her. She was sweet, kind, sadness in her eyes as she gazed fondly at her son. "Your daddy told me that we could be friends then and I want to be your friend now." Nicky frowned, trying to avoid looking at Neal and Trenton.

"If you don't treat him nicely, I'm going to ground you. No movies, popcorn, or staying up late. You'll go right to bed, Nicolas James," Neal said. He wasn't cruel about it and he wasn't even sure he'd go through with it. Nicky would cry and he'd feel bad and cave in. "He said he's sorry and I think it's time for you to do the same and talk to him like none of this ever happened."

"But—"

"No," Neal snapped. "No buts. Come on, Nick." He was desperate to make his son fix things with Trenton. Trenton really needed him right now, needed a friend like Nicky. A sudden thought occurred to Neal and he looked up at Mozzie. "You heard the fight Uncle Mozzie and I had a few months ago, Nick. We've moved past that and we're friends again."

To reinforce what Neal said, Mozzie pulled Neal up and squeezed him in a tight bear hug. Neal chuckled, hugging Mozzie in return. When they parted, Mozzie decided to add his two cents. "Your daddy could have hated me because of the things I said. They were really hurtful and I knew what I did was wrong." He looked directly at Neal, smiling. "He forgave me though. The things Trenton said about your dad were wrong, and he apologized for it. Neal forgave him, too."

Nicky crossed his arms over his chest, stubbornly pouting. Just as Neal was about to send Nicky to his room, he sighed. "Fine. I'm sorry, Trenton. I'll be your friend."

The joy that spread across Trenton's face was brilliant. Neal was proud of his son when Nicky went over to hug Trenton like Mozzie had just hugged him. His boy might be stubborn, but he'd cave—just like his daddy. "Is it okay if he shares your room?" Neal asked Nicky. When his son nodded, he grinned. "All right. Let's make him comfortable then."


	12. Chapter 12

"They said it would only be a couple days," Mozzie whined. Neal rolled his eyes and Peter sighed, Nicky and Trenton seemingly oblivious to the conversation the adults were having at the table in the center of the living area. "I haven't been able to pull out any of my lovely wines for the past two weeks because there's an extra child to worry about—and I'd have to deal with your daddy-wrath if I even attempted to bring a bottle in."

Neal chuckled. "No one's stopping you from going outside to drink, Moz. I just don't want it in here." He lowered the newspaper he was reading and gave Mozzie a pointed look. "However, if you're drinking, I know nobody wants to deal with Uncle Drunkie."

Mozzie feigned his astonishment. "You'd leave your best friend to fend for himself just because he's drunk?" Shaking his head, he stood from the table. Neal rolled his eyes again, knowing it was one of those days where Mozzie needed to be overly dramatic about _everything._ "Doing nothing for others—"

"—is the undoing of ourselves. Horace Mann." Peter looked up from his crossword puzzle, impressed. "Just go out and enjoy yourself, Moz. I'll send someone to look for your body in a couple of hours if you don't call me to tell me how drunk off your a—" Peter stifled a laugh. Neal was always so careful with his words around kids. "—how drunk you are," he amended.

"Do you know how boring you are on Saturdays?" Mozzie asked petulantly. "I swear, if you roll your eyes one more time…" Neal did just that, challenging Mozzie. He smirked, too. "You're such a brat. I feel like you're my child sometimes."

Neal couldn't help laughing at that. "Well, daddy—"

"I recant that remark about you being my child."

"I'm about to make you both feel like _my_ children if you don't quiet yourselves," Peter teased. He turned just in time for Neal to lean over and kiss him quickly. "Although, that might be a little awkward with the brat here."

Mozzie smirked at Neal, who knew exactly what was about to be said. "I've always told him he's got a 'daddy complex.' You just proved my theory right."

Neal threw the empty cereal box at Mozzie. "I've told you half a million times that I don't have daddy issues, Moz." He glared slightly at the balding man. "Peter's not even that much older than me. He isn't old enough to _be_ my father."

"I can't believe you both took that so literally," Peter said, absolutely taken aback by how serious the conversation turned. He turned to look at Neal, who was smiling sweetly. "You aren't that innocent, so don't pretend." Peter damned those blue eyes. That's' what made Peter fall in love with him though. That and the fact that he's a smart brunette. He never admitted to having a type, but that's what he wanted in a partner. Smart, brunette, and beautiful blue eyes. Peter watched Neal's eyes darken and was surprised by how aroused he was when Neal licked his lips. "You're actually trying to torment me, aren't you?" Neal started playing with his hair, frizzing it up a bit, while looking directly at Peter.

Mozzie took the hint. "Nicky, Trenton," he called out. The two hopped off of Neal's bed and ran over to him. "Grab your jackets. I'm going to take you two to the park for a little while."

While the kids were rushing to get ready to leave with Mozzie, Peter arched his eyebrow at Neal. "Are you sure about this?" Neal smiled, leaning forward to kiss Peter's jaw. He wasn't giving him an answer and that worried Peter. Neal kept pressing sweet kisses across his jaw line and he sighed. "Neal, you're making me want to throw you onto the table and take you right now."

Neal looked around for a moment. They were alone. "I'm so God damn horny right now," he whispered. Peter supposed that was his fault, given that this had been the topic of their pillow talk for the last two weeks since Neal came home. They'd talked and talked some more about what their first time should be like and Neal kept insisting that he didn't need any extra time to ready himself for Peter. "I want you now and I'm not going to let you have another talk about sex with me unless we're doing it."

Nicky ran out of his room, running over to Neal, who tactlessly attempted to hide his erection. Nicky kissed Neal, grinning. "Love you, daddy."

"Love you, too, Nick. Have fun with Uncle Mozzie and Trenton." Nicky leaned over to kiss Peter as well and Neal couldn't help the fact that his eyes started watering. In a matter of moments, Mozzie was herding the two boys out of the apartment. Neal turned his face away, embarrassed because he was crying for no reason at all.

Peter turned to him and was about to pull Neal out of his seat, but noticed that something was wrong. "Neal?" He stood up and hovered over Neal, resting his hands on Neal's shoulders. "Why are you crying?" He was suddenly very self-conscious, wondering if he'd inadvertently hurt Neal with how he'd acted with Nicky as they were getting ready to leave.

Neal shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "I'm just acting like an overly emotional girl," he said hoarsely. Peter chuckled. "Nicky gave you a kiss before he left. I thought it was sweet and it made me feel really good to see you both happy." Peter kissed his hair and Neal straightened up. "I need to reassert some of my masculinity, so I'll be starting this."He leapt out of his chair and grabbed Peter's head, bringing him down for an intense kiss.

Peter gripped Neal's hips, letting him lead. He wasn't nervous, not really. He's been with Neal for a while and they've gotten to know each other so much better. He felt like Neal really was his soul mate and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. If he had anything to be nervous about, that was it. Neal spun them so that he was walking backwards, pulling Peter along with him. Much to Neal's chagrin, he tripped over one of Nicky's train sets. He stumbled backwards, nearly falling, but Peter wound his arms around Neal, holding him upright.

They hadn't parted for breath until Neal was on his back on the bed. Peter gasped against Neal's mouth. "Well," he said breathlessly, "the trip here was eventful."

"Shut up," Neal whispered, pressing kisses against the column of Peter's neck. "Haven't had sex in a long time," he breathed. His voice sounded deeper and that excited Peter. Neal grinded up into Peter's groin, their jeans painfully tight all of a sudden, which made him growl in frustration. "Naked. _Now._"

Peter smiled and pushed himself up to straddle Neal, pulling his shirt off. Neal pulled his own off and froze, staring at Peter. "You okay?" This wasn't the first time he'd seen Peter's chest, so he had no idea what was wrong. Neal wasn't responding and he was getting increasingly worried. "Neal?" Neal shook his head and resumed his actions, sliding his belt off. Peter stilled his hands, staring into his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." He knew Neal was lying. He could see it in his face, how wide his eyes got for that brief moment. He rolled off of Neal, lying down beside him. "Peter, I want to have sex," Neal said halfheartedly, frowning.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Peter said gently, his eyes never leaving Neal's. Neal grimaced and sighed exasperatedly, throwing his shirt to the floor. He stayed on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Peter held himself up on his elbow, his face in his palm. "I love you and I want this, too, but I won't do anything unless you're sure."

Neal closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I killed the mood really quick." Peter reached out to stroke Neal's shoulder, tracing the scar the bullet left there. He didn't say anything, allowing Neal to take his time and not feel pressured into talking about it if he couldn't. "I hate myself," Neal whispered.

"Don't do this," Peter pleaded. "You did nothing wrong. I love you, Neal." He pressed kisses onto Neal's forehead. When Neal opened his eyes, he looked miserable. "Were you thinking about Adler?" Neal nodded slowly. "Did I do something that reminded you of him?"

He sat up a little, kissing Peter. "I know this sounds stupid, but it was how you straddled me when we were undressing," Neal admitted. Peter's lips parted and he had no idea what to say to that. He hadn't realized that he'd done something wrong. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like such a damn baby. I'm fucking thirty-two years old. I should be able to deal with—"

Peter pushed him down and kissed him quickly. When he pulled away, he said, "Don't do that either. There's nothing wrong with reacting that way. Do I look like I'm mad at you?"

"Matthew would have been because—" He stopped dead when he stared into Peter's eyes, catching the pain there. He breathed unevenly for a few seconds, then he rolled over, his back to Peter. "I need to shut up," he mumbled.

He was disappointed in himself. How could he compare Peter and Matthew? They were completely different men. Peter was the one person he felt he could give himself to without question and he was ruining it all in very few words. "I love you, Neal Caffrey." Peter spooned behind him, draping his arm over Neal's waist. "I hope you know that—and never doubt it."

He hesitated, but took Peter's hand in his, closing his eyes. "Thank you, Peter."

•◊•

When Mozzie brought the kids back to the apartment, all of the sexual tension had vanished. He'd given them enough time to talk things through and Neal managed to convince Peter that he could at least give him a blowjob. Peter kept trying to tell him not to, but he couldn't stop Neal and he really didn't want to. After he made Peter come, he'd swallowed it down and pulled away. Peter protested, trying to persuade Neal to let him return the favor. Neal just shook his head and muttered, "I killed the mood and you deserved the pleasure, Peter," before wandering over to the table to sit down by himself while Peter recovered.

Peter was sitting across from Neal on the balcony now, talking with him quietly. Mozzie knew at that particular moment that nothing happened. He was kind of shocked after seeing the buildup of Neal's arousal. Trenton and Nicky went to lie on Neal and Peter's bed, turning the television on. Mozzie cautiously walked over to the kitchen table, not yet willing to disturb the two men.

Something happened, but not the something he'd thought would happen. Neal didn't look happy and Peter was trying to comfort him. If they _had_ done anything, Neal would probably be bouncing off the walls. "You can come out, Moz," Neal called out. He even sounded unhappy.

"Are you guys okay?"

Neal turned in his seat to look up at his best friend. "I…fucked everything up as usual." Peter sighed and Neal turned again—quicker this time—to glare at Peter. "Don't try to tell me I didn't. I don't want to hear it anymore. I know you understand, but that doesn't change anything, okay?"

"Neal, please stop this." Even Peter was unhappy. Mozzie was beginning to wonder if they'd broken up. He'd be devastated by that and so would Nicky. They both agreed that Neal and Peter were the perfect match. "I told you I'm not mad. Why aren't you listening now?"

The chair screeched across the floor as Neal shoved it back and moved out of it simultaneously. He was about to leave, but stopped. "When you can finally admit that I'm a fucking waste of your time, come talk to me," he whispered. Mozzie awkwardly watched as they shared a hurt look with each other. Peter looked desperate to keep Neal here, but Neal went back inside.

Mozzie took Neal's seat, frowning. "You guys broke up?"

Peter blinked. "No. No, we're still together." Mozzie gave him a questioning look. "He…couldn't do it. He said he wanted to, but I did something that made him think about what Adler did to him."

"Suit…"

"I didn't intentionally try to hurt him," Peter said defensively. "I was just as excited until I realized he was terrified and lost. He's so disappointed and angry—mostly with himself. I don't know what to say. I thought everything was all right for a little while and then he asked me why I'm still here."

Mozzie was definitely shocked by that. "That's not like him."

Peter nodded. "It hurt, Mozzie. He thinks I'm here only to have sex with him and said: 'Peter, this is a waste of your time. You want to fuck and I can't just lie down and let you fuck me.' I'm fairly certain I saw red when he said that."

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No. I'm just going to let him relax with the boys for a little while. I don't want to argue with him over this." Peter started rubbing his arm nervously. "I'm afraid of saying something that'll make him do something stupid." When Mozzie opened his mouth, Peter shook his head. "He's the smartest man I know, Moz. I'm afraid of him considering suicide. I know he won't inflict harm on himself because he hates the idea of cutting himself. He's… I know he's in love with me, but I think he's scared by how much I love him in return."

Mozzie nodded thoughtfully. "That's understandable, considering his past is filled with rape, abuse, and meaningless sex. I don't think he knows how to handle love on such an intense level. His own mother didn't love him as much as you do—based on what I've been told about her anyway."

The two of them sat outside for a little more than two hours and it was starting to get dark. Peter heard Nicky ask, "Where are you going?" and that was followed up with no response, but he heard Neal's shoes. He leapt up from his seat and darted inside. Neal was pulling on his jacket as he was closing the door and Peter raced over to it, stopping the door from closing.

Neal looked up, shocked to see Peter. "What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Peter said, his voice shaky. He pulled the door open just enough for himself to fit through and closed it behind him. "Where _are_ you going?" Neal looked down at their feet, which Peter understood. "There's no need to leave, Neal. Come here." He held his arms out, not making another move after that. If this was going to work, Neal needed to make the effort. His heart skipped a beat when Neal dropped his keys and leaned into Peter's embrace. "There's no reason to get so upset, Neal. You aren't a sex object. I've never seen you as one. Look at us. We haven't had sex yet and we're so close."

Neal sighed exasperatedly, his eyes watering. "I feel so worthless or helpless or whatever the hell it is that I feel." His voice was thick and angry. "I had sex with guys I didn't give a damn about and I couldn't even do it with you." He made frantic hand gestures. "You're the only man I've ever loved like this and I should be able to make love with you or have sex with you. I don't know what it's called. It's always been sex and I—"

Peter covered Neal's mouth, startling the younger man. "I have never once pressured you into doing something you don't want to do. This is the same thing." He slid his hand away from Neal's mouth, rubbing the trails of tears on Neal's cheeks away with his thumb. "We're not going to fall apart because I can't have you that way. I'm here for good. I've told you that repeatedly. I'm not leaving you until you tell me you don't love me anymore."

The pained expression on Neal's face made Peter's heart clench. "I can't say I don't love you. I'd be lying if I did. This feeling—this love I feel for you… It's something I can't let go of, something that won't go away." He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling shakily. "I know I'm acting so damn stupid, Peter, and I don't want to lose you."

"As long as you listen to me and hear me when I say I love you, that I love you _unconditionally,_ then you won't." He smiled at Neal, hoping he'd get a smile out of him, too. "Caffrey, you're the love of my life," he said fiercely. "Loving you feels like a supernova."

Neal laughed forcefully. "I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?" Peter nodded, taking Neal's hand. "I hear you," he said sincerely, looking right at Peter's face. "I'll listen from now on. You wouldn't lie to me. You won't hurt me and I need to get that through this thick skull of mine."

"That's the Neal Caffrey I adore," Peter said affectionately. He kissed Neal's hair, chuckling. "We'll find a way to penetrate your skull. I promise you that." When Peter pulled back, Neal was smirking. "You little shit," he whispered, laughing. "You're such a pain in the ass. Get back in there so I can cuddle with you." Neal giggled, bending down to grab his keys before dragging Peter back into the apartment with him. The other three looked at them curiously when they immediately headed towards the bed. Neal toed off his shoes, threw his jacket onto the couch, and got under the blanket, holding it up for Peter to slide in beside him, which he promptly did. "You guys want to watch a movie?"

Both boys excitedly went to get Nicky's Pokémon movies. "You two are okay now?" Mozzie asked tentatively, pulling a beanbag chair towards the bed. Peter and Neal both nodded, getting comfortable. Mozzie watched how Neal eased into Peter's touch and how Peter didn't even have to think twice about holding Neal against his chest, taking one of Neal's hands. "Still a better love story than _Twilight,_" Mozzie muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Peter and Neal just smiled first in response to Mozzie's remark, then just because they realized how nice things were when they allowed themselves to be happy.

Nicky and Trenton returned a moment later, popping the disc into the DVD player. Nicky literally called dibs on Neal, hopping onto the bed to curl up against him. Neal chuckled, stroking Nicky's hair. Trenton pressed play and joined them on the bed, sitting beside Nicky. Peter kissed just below Neal's ear, a sensitive area that he absolutely loved having kissed. "Love you, my sweetheart," he murmured.

Neal looked up at Peter. "You, too, Superman."

The five of them watched the movie for a while. Peter and Neal got slightly bored and Neal was getting pretty tired, having cried out most of his energy earlier. Peter didn't even realize Neal was asleep at first. He was pretty awake, as was Mozzie.

By the time the movie was over, Neal was still sound asleep against Peter, Nicky asleep with his head on Neal's stomach, and Trenton was curled up against Nicky. Peter smiled. Even if Trenton was only with them temporarily, this still felt like a family.

"Well," Mozzie said, getting up to turn the television off. "All the children are asleep. I'm going to sleep on the couch since the bed seems to be completely occupied."

Peter chuckled. "Good night, Moz, and thank you…for talking to me earlier."

Mozzie harrumphed quietly. "Good night, Suit." All the lights went out after several moments and Peter closed his eyes, listening to Neal, Nicky, and Trenton breathe. "Suit?" Peter made a noise of acknowledgement. "Thank you for making Neal happy."

Peter opened his eyes. He could get used to be appraised by Mozzie. They were starting to bond a little, which had been difficult after the falling out between Mozzie and Neal. Peter found that, for as quirky and odd as Moz was, he really liked the little guy. There wasn't really an option to get rid of him though, even if he didn't like him. Neal, Nicky, and Moz were all part of a package deal—a deal that Peter eagerly signed for and opened to keep entirely for himself.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I've edited the sex scene out of this version. However, if you want to read it, the link for my Archive of Our Own account should show up on my profile shortly.**

Christmas was just around the corner and Neal took Nicky shopping. They were getting a gift for Trenton since the two boys had become such great friends. Trenton's mother, Julie, was a sweetheart who absolutely loved Nicky. She and Neal got along nicely, too, so the boys had some sleepovers on the weekends. Julie met Peter when she'd come to drop Nicky off and she was very pleased with his personality as well. No words were said about Neal and Peter's relationship, which relieved them both. Every time she dropped Nicky off, she'd tell him to say hi to his daddies for her.

"Daddy!" Neal startled out of his daydreaming. He'd leaned against the cart while Nicky went to look through the toys and just started thinking about Peter, about him and Peter. "It's twenty-three dollars, but he'll really like it. Can we get it? Please, daddy?" The nine year old was bouncing up and down in front of his father, giving him the puppy dog eyes.

Neal sighed. It wasn't really that expensive, so he didn't mind at all. As long as they didn't go over his budget, this was fine. "Yeah, Nick. Go ahead and put it in the cart."

Nicky cheered as he put the Detective Kit into the cart. Then he ran off again, calling out for Neal to follow him. Neal sighed and pushed the cart, following his son. He still had to get a few things Peter asked for before he left. They needed a few more towels, some coffee mugs, actual coffee, and tentatively told him to grab some condoms if he felt like it. The last thing would have to be grabbed without Nicky seeing it because he really didn't want to get into that. "Daddy, can we get this, too?" Neal went down the LEGO aisle, glancing at the set his son wanted to get for Trenton. It was a Space Police set and even he thought that was cool, but it cost ninety-five dollars.

He grimaced. "Sure, but are you buying for Trenton or yourself?"

"For Trent! Daddy, you're silly." Neal smiled, shifting to grab the box off of the shelf since it was too high for Nicky to reach. He put it into the cart and hoped that was all they were getting. "One more thing I found!" Neal sighed, rolling his eyes. Of course there was something else. He followed Nicky around the corner and down another aisle. "This!" Neal looked at what his son was pointing at. It was a giant tent. He read the box, looking at sizes to make sure it wasn't meant for toddlers. It had a four-and-a-half-foot teepee, a pup tent about half that size, and two tunnels linking them together. It looked like something they'd make good use of, so he considered it until he looked at the price.

"Nick, this is seventy-four dollars," he said cautiously.

Nicky didn't entirely understand the concept of money yet, so he just shrugged, thinking his daddy wouldn't have an issue with paying that much. "Please, daddy?" Neal hated himself for not being strict enough with Nicky over the years. He wished he'd told Nicky how their money was something that needed to be used only when necessary. Before Nicky, he'd spent almost all of his money on alcohol. Now that he had Nicky, he saved every penny. Sometimes that still wasn't enough and he couldn't afford to pay June, but she was such a sweetheart. He always paid her when he could and she was very accepting of that, telling him not to worry about it too much.

He still had to pay her for this month and he knew he wasn't going to have the money for it. Peter's been asking him when the money's due and Neal's deflected it for as long as he could. He didn't want to take Peter's money. Peter hasn't had to spend money on a child for nearly a decade. Neal would never go back in time and wish he hadn't gotten Nicky. He loved the little brat, but he was a very costly little brat.

He wouldn't be able to afford a gift for Peter unless he somehow managed to grow money on trees soon. "Sure, kiddo," he said quietly. Nicky didn't seem to notice how quickly Neal went from being tiredly thrilled to absolutely depressed.

He dragged Nicky away from the toys section before Nicky discovered anything else he wanted to get for Trenton and immediately took him over to get a few towels, some fluffy ones that Peter suggested. He tossed them into the cart, figuring there was no point in trying to save money now. He was going to be completely out by the time he was done here. He grabbed the coffee and coffee mugs, looking for some that had specific sayings on them. Those, however nice they were, were expensive. He bought cheap mugs and decided he'd put his art skills to use. He hadn't done anything magnificent in a long time, but he hoped he'd be able to do something Peter appreciated.

The last thing he wanted to get was the condoms and he swallowed, watching Nicky. He seemed completely oblivious to anything Neal was doing, so as he was pushing the cart, he reached out and grabbed a six pack of condoms. He didn't want to be extremely optimistic and grab twelve. He'd be surprised if they even opened it up to use one with how he's been acting. He tossed it into the cart, relieved that Nicky hadn't seen him grab it.

When he got to the checkout, he really didn't care about the cashier seeing the condoms. He put the condoms behind the LEGO box, hiding them from Nicky. Everything went through and the cashier, Rick, gave him a curious look. "Are you free tonight?" he said quietly, which shocked Neal. This guy had to be at least eighteen. _This_ was the perfect example of a daddy complex.

"Um, no." He was flustered and irritated with how unprofessional the cashier was. If he told Peter, Peter would come down here himself and probably use his status as an FBI agent to scare the poor kid. When the total came out, Neal was shocked to see how low it was. It had to be at least half the price it should have been. "Did you scan everything?" he asked, looking at the screen to see for himself.

Rick smiled at him. "I used my employee discount. Happy holidays, sweetheart."

Neal's eyebrows were raised while he was getting the receipt. When he handed it to Neal, Neal noticed the phone number at the bottom written in blue pen. "Thank you," Neal said quietly. "Happy holidays to you, too."

He put the bags into the cart, feeling Rick's eyes on him the whole time, and grabbed Nicky's hand, pushing the cart with the other. Nicky was quiet until they got outside. "Daddy, what was he doing?" Neal looked down at him, raising an eyebrow. "He kept smiling at you. Like Peter does."

Neal shuddered. "Don't worry about it, baby. Some people are just…you know, desperate." He watched Nicky nod, knowing Nicky had no idea what he was implying. He just decided to nod without further question. "You going to help me carry the bags home?"

"Of course, daddy." Neal smiled, pushing the cart into one of the return stalls, pulling the bags out. He handed the lighter ones to Nicky—towels and the means of making Peter some good coffee. He carried the toys, mugs, and made damn sure he had the condoms in _his_ bags, too. "Are we going to take the subway again?"

"Yep. Peter's at work, so he can't come get us." Neal slid a couple bags over his wrist, holding his hand out for Nicky, who immediately took it. They were walking across the parking lot, so he wanted to make sure he had a firm grip on his son. They walked for about ten minutes before Nicky started shivering.

Neal frowned, not sure what to do. They really couldn't go in anywhere with their bags and the subway was still another ten minutes away. He looked at the street, trying to think of the quickest shortcut route, when a black _Taurus_ pulled up to the curb. Neal stared at it until the window rolled down. He leaned forward to look in and grinned. "Need a lift?"

"Peter!" Nicky didn't even bother with taking his time to get in. He just hopped right into the back without a care in the world, sighing when he felt the warmth of the car. Neal chuckled, putting the bag of bigger toys into the backseat with Nicky, buckling him up. He knew Nicky was old enough to do it himself, but he hadn't had the opportunity to do it much when Nicky was growing up because he didn't have a car. He had the bag with the Detective Kit and condoms in hand, taking it into the front seat with him.

When he slid inside, Peter leaned over to kiss him, which he immediately leaned into after closing the door. "How'd you know we were here?"

"You told me where you were going and that you were using the subway. I went to the store and didn't see you there, so I traced your steps and saw you two." He stroked Neal's cheek. "You're really cold, Neal."

Neal shrugged. "I'll warm up in no time since you rescued us from the sub-zero temperatures." He smiled lovingly at Peter, who took his hand.

Peter looked in the rearview mirror to see Nicky. "Did you have fun shopping with daddy?" Nicky was nodding eagerly. "Tell me about it." He glanced at Neal, sharing a smile with him.

The whole drive home consisted of Nicky telling him about Neal taking him out to lunch at McDonalds and then about going to Wal-Mart. Of course, Nicky didn't exclude the flirting the cashier did. Peter swerved a bit, looking in all his mirrors as he straightened out. Neal gripped Peter's hand that was still holding his. He wasn't sure if it was the conditions of the road or what Nicky said. "There's no reason to be worried," Neal assured him.

"I know," Peter said quickly. "I just don't like the idea of someone asking you out because you have a pretty face." Neal flushed at that. He felt like an idiot for actually getting turned on by Peter's mild jealousy. His eyes were able to flicker over to Neal for a brief moment before focusing on the road again. "You're not man candy," Peter muttered.

Neal leaned back in his seat. "I know that. You treat me better than that," he whispered, staring at Peter's face. Nicky was quiet in the backseat after that and Neal was worried that he was upset. He turned to look over his shoulder. "You okay, Nick?" Nicky nodded silently. "Hey, look at me." When Nicky looked at him, Neal smiled. He didn't get a smile in return. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the nine year old mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Peter looked in the rearview mirror at him before looking at Neal for a second. Neal tried to ask again and Nicky was louder when he said, "Nothing's wrong, okay?"

Neal didn't believe him, but let it go for now. He frowned when he turned to sit straight in his seat. Peter still had his hand, their fingers intertwined.

When they got home, Peter parked the car carefully. He kissed Neal again before getting out of the car, opening the door behind him to grab the bags Neal put there. Nicky climbed out on Neal's side, brushing his father off without a word. Neal stared in disbelief and hurt as Nicky trudged up to June's house, not hesitating to go inside. June always seemed to know when they'd be home.

"Hey," Peter said quietly, standing beside Neal with the other bags in hand after locking up the car. Neal looked at him sadly. "I'm sure everything will be okay when we get in the apartment. We'll talk to him—or you can, if he doesn't want to talk to me."

Neal looked down at the snow-covered ground, then at the bag he was holding. "I bought condoms," he said, his voice much quieter than a whisper. "Do you think we could give it a try over Christmas vacation?"

Peter smiled in that way that Peter always did when he wanted to tell Neal he loved him. "If you're ready, then yes." Neal nodded, pecking Peter's cheek before leading the way into June's. He had a free hand, so he pulled the door open for Peter. He trailed Peter inside, both of them toeing off their boots beside Nicky's so they didn't track snow into the house, taking up the lead to get into the apartment since Nicky closed the door.

He opened it for Peter and closed it behind him. He didn't lock it just yet, figuring that Mozzie was bound to come over soon. He took the bag over to his and Peter's bed, setting it down, then moved towards the door again to drape his jacket over the back of his lounging chair near the coffee table. "Oh, I got the coffee like you asked me to," he called out since Peter had wandered off down the hallway towards the bathroom.

"Thank you!" Peter replied gratefully. "Taking a shower. Either of you object?"

Neal looked for Nicky, his brows furrowing. "No, go ahead, Peter." He headed over to Nicky's room and peered in around the doorway. His son was sitting on the bed, legs dangling over the side, head bowed. "Nick, what's wrong?" he asked gently, walking into the room to sit beside him. Nicky looked up at him sadly. "Nicky, come on, kiddo."

"Did I make Peter mad at you?"

"No, of course not." He kissed Nicky's hair. "I'm good at doing that on my own," he said teasingly. "Peter isn't mad at me. Don't you worry about that." Nicky turned to hug Neal, who eagerly embraced him. He stroked Nicky's hair until he heard a small yawn. "All right, you." He looked at the clock and it was almost nine. "You get some sleep, Nick." He picked his son up enough to pull the blanket back, then slid him underneath it, propping his head up on the pillow. He kissed Nicky's forehead and made sure the blanket was tucked around him before leaving, closing the door a little on his way out. He left it open since he'd installed a nightlight outside of the door. Nicky could see the light there if the door was left slightly open.

Neal went to his own bed, hopping up on it. He grabbed his reading glasses off of the nightstand and pulled _Hamlet_ out of the drawer, immediately turning back to where he'd left off. He'd gotten through two acts and had just gotten to Hamlet's murder of Polonius when Peter came out of the shower. Neal smiled over his book and Peter just shook his head. "I can't believe how gorgeous you look in those glasses."

Neal chuckled. "You don't look half bad yourself," he said, eyeing the towel hanging loosely around Peter's hips. "Nicky's asleep and I don't think Moz is coming. It's past his usual time."

Peter understood what Neal wasn't saying. "You want to try?" Neal nodded, getting up from the bed. Peter's eyes followed Neal as he crossed over to the couch to grab the bag, pulling the condoms out. "Are you sure?" He remembered Neal asking if they could try again over Christmas break. They still had about a week and a half to go before they were off.

"Yeah. I'm not in the mood for anything rough or quick though, if that's okay with you."

Laughing lightly, he nodded. "You don't have to worry about it being okay with me. I want this to be okay with _you._" Neal returned to the bed, tossing the condoms onto it. He started pulling his shirt off, Peter watching in awe. He pulled himself out of his fantasy world and went over to Neal, getting onto the bed with him, tossing the towel down onto the floor. The lights were lowered enough so that they were able to see each other. Peter was on his knees behind Neal, wrapping his arms around him. He pressed kisses against Neal's neck, down to where his neck met his shoulder, and then across Neal's shoulder. "If you want me to stop at any point, you _will_ tell me," he ordered gently.

Neal nodded, leaning back against Peter. "I promise." Peter kissed Neal's skin, savoring the way Neal shivered under his tongue. He was sliding Neal's belt through the loops on his jeans, deciding to suck on Neal's neck. Neal's head tilted back, his lips parting in a small gasp. He'd closed his eyes, giving himself over to the feeling of Peter touching him.

Neal felt achingly hard in his jeans and wanted them off. He felt Peter's erection behind him and he wondered how good it would feel inside of him. It'd been a while since he'd been with anyone, but Peter wasn't just anyone. Neal arched forward, twisting so that he was on his back. He started unbuttoning his jeans and Peter helped slide them off. His boxers were the next to go. He was relatively calm as he stared into Peter's eyes, knowing he was safe.

Peter leaned over him, kissing him passionately, their lips moving in synchronization. Peter pulled away to pepper kisses along Neal's jaw. Neal muttered something about the blanket and Peter pulled it over them. He felt how cool Neal's skin was, so he understood—he was cold and didn't want Nicky to see anything if he got out of bed for some reason.

•◊•

He couldn't help staring at the debauched angel beside him, unable to form words.

Neal scooted closer to Peter, who pulled the younger man onto his chest. He stroked Neal's hair, listening to his panting breaths. "Thank you, Peter, for making that…phenomenal." He laughed quietly. "I can't even tell you how amazing it was."

Peter chuckled. "I'm fairly certain I _know_ how amazing it was. After all, I _did_ participate in it—same as you." Neal made a small, pleased noise, getting comfortable against Peter. "I love you, Neal," he whispered. He could see Neal smile in response. They didn't need words to let the other know how they felt. This was more than enough.

Peter switched the lights off, holding Neal close as he shifted on the bed. In a matter of minutes, he heard Neal snoring quietly. He couldn't help but feel happy. He'd made love with Neal for the first time and hadn't fucked it up. It was his first time with a man and his worst case scenario involved Neal in pain and blood. He was relieved that it hadn't gone like that, that it was sweet and slow—just the way they both liked it.


	14. Chapter 14

Peter and Neal were on their Christmas vacation now. He'd surprised Neal by asking if the three of them could make a trip up to Peter's parents' house for Christmas. They'd be staying there for a week, as long as Neal was all right with the idea. Neal hadn't outright objected at first. He just cautiously looked at Peter, asking, "What will they think of us?"

He couldn't say he was shocked by the question because he'd wondered as well. "I don't care, Neal. I can't take El with me, nor do I want to." He'd taken Neal's hand, kissed his knuckles, and stared into the younger man's eyes. "I need to come out to them at some point, Neal, and there's no time like the present—unless you'd rather not go."

Neal bit his lip nervously. "Even if I don't go, you're still going?" Peter didn't answer that. He probably would, just to see his family, but he'd stay if Neal asked him to. Instead, Neal shook his head. "No, you're right. There's nothing to be afraid of. There's no reason not to go."

So now they were en route to Portland, Maine. Nicky complained to Neal about how he'd miss Christmas with Trenton, but forced Neal to promise they'd go over when they got home. Peter was driving up there and he'd told Neal that it was a six hour drive, if not longer because of traffic and the addition of snowy, icy interstates and roads. "I'm sorry I had to wake you up so early," Peter whispered, looking over at Neal. He'd noticed about twenty minutes ago that Neal leaned over to rest against the window.

"I understand why. Doesn't mean I like it," he mumbled. Nicky was already passed out in the backseat, some of their luggage serving as his pillow. "I'm taking a nap when we get there."

Peter chuckled, reaching over to pat Neal's thigh. "I know you'll be cranky if you don't get some beauty sleep." Neal shot him a glare before shifting to sit mostly upright. "I kept you up too late and knew you'd need sleep." Neal had been rushing around to do more last minute shopping, leaving Peter to babysit for a little while. By the time he'd gotten home, it was after dinner and he'd just collapsed onto the bed. El was a sweetheart for taking him out, and he assumed Neal called her to get some help with a gift for him. Peter told Neal repeatedly that he didn't have to do anything, but Neal insisted on doing so. "I told them I was bringing the little guy, so they'll have…stuff…for him."

Neal nodded, understanding what Peter meant. "Santa's pretty damn flexible if he can drop presents off at home and at your parents' house." Peter smiled. "Did you tell them you were bringing me?"

"I said I was coming up with my _family._ They'll put the pieces together when they see you." Neal nodded slowly. "I'm not ashamed of you, Neal. I just don't think it was right to say, 'hey, mom, I'm coming up with my boyfriend' over the phone." Sighing tiredly, Neal just nodded again. Peter rubbed Neal's thigh slowly before shifting it so he could take Neal's hand instead. "We aren't going to pretend we're just friends when I take you there, all right? I'm going to hold you, kiss you, smile at you—everything I always do when we're alone and comfortable. There's absolutely no need to pretend otherwise around my family." Neal squeezed his hand tightly, making sure Peter knew he understood and that he was all right it. "You're amazing. They'll love you by the time we leave." Neal laughed at that, which made Peter sigh. "Despite what you think, you _are_ amazing. You're my other half—my better half."

Neal leaned his head back against the headrest, smiling at Peter lovingly. "How do you always know what to say?"

Peter grinned, rubbing Neal's skin with his thumb. "I tell you the honest truth. I speak from the heart, which I know is a bit of a cliché, but…" He shrugged. "I have no reason to lie to you. When I'm with you, I feel complete."

"Thank you, Peter."

They were quiet after that, enjoying the Christmas music playing quietly. Neal started singing along after a little while and Peter just listened, smiling all the while. After singing for about twenty minutes, he'd gotten quiet. When Peter looked over, Neal was asleep, his elbow on the armrest, jaw and cheek in his palm. He thought about waking him up to tell him to shift into a more comfortable position, but decided against it. Neal would probably consider castrating him if he even attempted to wake him. He drove extra carefully. The conditions made him drive that way, but he also had two people he loved with all of his heart with him.

Three hours into the drive, about an hour and a half after Neal fell asleep, Nicky woke up to ask Peter if they could stop somewhere because he had to go to the bathroom. "What's wrong with daddy?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"He's sleepy. He was up late, trying to pack, so let's just talk quietly, okay?" He was watching signs, looking for the next rest area he could turn off into. Fortunately, it didn't take too long. He parked in the lot, lowering Neal's window just a little since he'd be taking the keys. He turned the car off and pulled the keys out, locking the car once Nicky opened his door. Both he and Nicky shut their doors quietly. Nicky, out of habit with Neal, took Peter's hand as they crossed the lot and went into the building.

Even after they'd gotten inside, Nicky kept holding his hand. It felt nice to him. He hadn't spent all that much time with his nieces and he had no children of his own. He had no bond with a child until he met Nicky. The nine year old already treated Peter as though he and Neal were married, which made Peter his other daddy. When they got to the men's room, Nicky let go. Peter went in after him, taking the winter jacket Nicky handed to him, and stood near the door to wait while Nicky relieved himself.

Nicky was done quickly and washed his hands, then the two of them left. As they were making their way out of the building, Peter felt as though they were being followed. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder and realized that they had a tail. "Peter?" Nicky asked when Peter's hand tightened around his.

"Just keep walking, Nick." He hadn't informed Neal that he'd be taking his gun along with him, but he did and it was in his winter coat right now. He reached for it with his free hand, shifting Nicky slightly to make him walk ahead. He felt the follower getting closer after they'd gotten outside. He was near the car when he stopped dead, pushing Nicky behind him. He held his gun in both hands, aiming at the man following them. "Who the hell are you? And why are you following us?" he said loudly, demanding an answer. Nicky's hands were on Peter and he was trembling.

"You've got a cute kid."

Peter was disgusted with this man, assuming he was a pervert right off the bat. "You followed us all the way out just to tell me he's cute?"

"Where's Neal?"

Peter's blood ran cold. This was one of Adler's men. "We drove separately," he said tightly.

The man looked at Nicky. "Did he? He left his boy with you?" The man reached into his jacket and Peter didn't trust him for a moment. He fired his gun, shooting the man's lower leg.

He put his gun in his pocket and spun, picking Nicky up. He bolted, trying to get to the car before anyone was hurt. The man was firing his own gun, absolutely oblivious to anyone but Peter. Peter unlocked the car quickly, opening the door. He put Nicky inside in a rush. "Get buckled up, kiddo." He slammed the door shut, running around the nose of the car to get into the driver's seat. As soon as he'd slammed the door and put the keys in the ignition, turning it on loudly, Neal woke up. He mumbled something and started to sit up. He threw his hand out, pushing Neal down. "Keep your heads down!" he ordered, looking over his shoulder as he backed out. He did it quickly and turned the wheel just as fast, stepping on the gas. The car jackrabbitted forward and Peter struggled to keep control of the car as he drove at an insane speed.

"Peter, what the hell is going on?"

He lifted his hand off of Neal, letting him sit up. "Adler's got a man there. He was looking for you." He'd gotten them back on the interstate before looking at Neal for the first time since getting in. Neal looked horrified. "It's all right. We're both fine. I got Nick out of there as soon as I could."

They both heard Nicky make a muffled noise in the back. Peter couldn't turn around to look at him, but Neal did. "Baby, look at me," he said softly. Nicky lifted his face up from their luggage to stare at Neal, tears rolling down his face. "It's okay. Everything's okay now. Peter protected you—will keep protecting you. No one is going to hurt you." He reached into the backseat to rub Nicky's knee. "It's okay," he repeated. "We're all safe."

Peter looked lost in thought when Neal glanced in his direction. "Why would that man be here?" He blinked then. "Neal, what if he knows where we're going?"

"Stop the car."

"No!" Peter cried out, grabbing Neal's hand tightly, nearly crushing his bones. "I will _not_ let you out of this car."

"Peter, we both know—"

Peter was furious with him now. "After everything we've been through, have you understood _nothing?_" Neal straightened in his seat, staring ahead with a hurt expression. He lowered his voice when he said, "I'm not sacrificing you. I have my gun with me and I will kill anyone who gets within fifty feet of either of you."

"But your family—"

He unintentionally raised his voice, scaring Nicky and making Neal flinch. "_You_ are my family, Neal!" He made a sharp turn that jostled Neal in his seat a bit. "After everything… After you told me everything, I refuse to let you hurt yourself. We're in this together and I'm going to protect you or die trying."

Neal tried to calm himself down so he could calm Peter and Nicky as well. "Peter, I know. I know. I really do," he pleaded. "I'm sorry, Peter. I'm really s—"

"If you're so sorry, why do you keep asking me to let you go?" Peter asked pointedly.

Neal swallowed hard, his eyes starting to water. He hadn't meant to hurt Peter. He'd get out of this car right now and give himself to whoever was working with Adler if it meant Peter and Nicky were safe. He wasn't trying to be a hero. He was being realistic. "I'm sorry," he whispered, rubbing his eyes.

Peter wanted to snap at him, tell him to stop crying and talk to him like an adult, but he bit his tongue at the realization that he was being extremely cruel right now. He had the right to be angry, but he was yelling at Neal for trying to do what he felt was best for his family's sake. Neal leaned away from him, resting against the window. He had a hand over his mouth to stifle any noises he'd make and was rubbing his eyes with the other. "Neal," Peter said, sounding hoarse and deeply apologetic. "Don't cry, sweetheart. _I_ am the one who should be sorry." He was angry with Neal for being so ready to risk his life, to give his life to someone who'd destroy him, but he rationalized it as much as he could and tried to put himself in Neal's shoes. If Nicky were his biological son, he'd do the same thing without hesitation. Hell, he'd even do it right now if it came to that. He reached over to rub Neal's shoulder.

Nicky sniffled in the backseat. "Daddy?"

Neal let one sob shake him before forcing himself to stop. "Yes, Nick?" he asked, voice thick with tears.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm fine."

Peter kept his hand on Neal's shoulder when the younger man sat upright and rubbed his face. "Are you and Peter okay?" Nicky asked in a much quieter voice than he'd used when he'd asked his first question.

Neal looked at Peter, who looked at him at the same time. "I don't know," he said brokenly.

At the next stop, they decided they'd get something to eat. Peter offered to go up and order their food and pay for it, but Neal just asked him what he wanted and went off to do it himself. He led Nicky over to a booth, unable to help the fact that he felt sick with guilt. "Peter, why did you yell and make daddy cry?"

Peter frowned deeply, looking at the little boy across from him. "Daddy was trying to protect you—us—and I knew he'd get hurt. I don't want anyone to hurt him, Nick." He lowered his head, ashamed with how he'd acted in the car. "I'm sorry for yelling at him. I didn't mean to make him cry either."

Nicky rested his elbows on the tabletop, staring at Peter until the older man finally looked at him. "When he comes back, take the tray away from him and hug him tight." Peter looked confused. "I do it when daddy's upset with me if we're at McDonalds. He's a little happier after I hug him." Nicky gave him a broad smile. "It'll be easier for you though because you're taller."

"Thanks, Nicky," Peter said gratefully.

The two of them talked about a few things just to pass the time and then Nicky looked to his left, seeing his father struggling to keep everything in hand. "There he is. Go, Peter."

Peter sat up, looking at Neal. He slid out of the booth quickly and whispered, "Here, let me." Neal didn't argue with him when he took both trays and the bag Neal had around his wrist. He took them over to the table quickly, setting them down. Neal made a pained face when Peter turned around, but was surprised when Peter pulled him close, embracing him tightly. He slid one of his hands down Neal's back, rubbing the small of his back slowly as he pressed kisses against Neal's face, just below his ear. "I'm so sorry, Neal, for everything. Can you forgive me?"

He didn't pull away, afraid to look Neal in the eye if he chose not to forgive him. Neal hadn't returned the embrace yet, but sighed and wrapped his arms around Peter. "Yes," he said quietly. Neal started to pull away, but Peter held him tighter. Neal laughed. "Hey, you can let go now, you big teddy bear. We're okay." Peter reluctantly released him, standing in front of him, staring at his face. "We're okay," Neal said, his voice stronger now, more assured.

Peter sighed, relieved. "Yay!" Nicky cheered, taking that moment to grab at some of Neal's fries.

Neal shook his head. "You're a little brat." He made a gesture with his hands, telling Nicky to scoot over. Peter slid on the side he'd originally been sitting on and Neal sat beside Nicky. Neal split the food, knowing exactly what each of them wanted. He took a couple of Nicky's fries sneakily, smirking. Peter stifled a laugh, smiling at Neal.

They all ate in peaceful silence. People all around them were talking loudly. Nobody took their winter coats off either. They'd all been told that the heater was broken, so they needed to stay bundled up. Peter wanted to get Neal's attention, but didn't feel like making it blatantly obvious to everyone by snapping his fingers or something. Instead, he gently nudged Neal's boot under the table. He looked up from staring at the toy Nicky had gotten and gave Peter a questioning look. All Peter did was smile, that smile that told Neal everything he already knew. Neal returned it, wiping his left hand off with a napkin before reaching out to rest it on top of Peter's right hand. Peter flipped it, so he could hold Neal's hand instead.

What ruined the sweet moment entirely was Peter's cell phone ringing. It was so damn loud that it made Neal and even Peter himself jump. He let go of Neal's hand to reach into his pocket, looking at the caller ID before answering. "Hey, mom."

"_Hi, sweetie. I'm assuming you're in some kind of rest area since you answered me so quickly. How's the drive been?_" He could hear his nieces in the background. They were asking about their Uncle Peter and Aunt Elizabeth.

Peter glanced at Neal as he answered. "Eh, there were a few rough moments in the drive, but everything's been all right so far." He listened to the girls and chuckled. "Tell them Uncle Peter's driving too slowly, but will eventually get there."

"_How's Elizabeth been? I haven't heard from either of you in a while. It's been at least a few years since the last time I saw you both and I'm fairly certain it was for Thanksgiving._" His mother sounded like she was accusing him of avoiding them entirely. It was part of why he hadn't moved to Maine with them. He wanted to be able to live a life here without them constantly breathing down his neck.

"El's good. We sent gifts to the girls every Christmas and every birthday, so you _have_ been aware that we're still alive," he teased. "How's Cara?" Neal gave him a curious look. Peter put his hand over the phone, whispering, "My sister." Neal nodded, and Peter realized he was mentally smacking himself for not knowing that.

His mom was surprisingly quiet, considering she loved to talk nonstop every time she got Peter on the phone. "_She's pregnant again,_" she finally answered. "_She's about to pop, too—and she's carrying twins._"

Peter's eyes widened a bit. "Wow, I didn't know that." His mom made a comment about how he would have known if he called or visited more often, which made him roll his eyes. "Cara and I haven't talked much since she got married, mom. We aren't very close anymore. I'm pretty sure the last time I actually talked to her was ten years ago for dad's birthday." She rambled on for a little while about how he and El should have come up more to see them, spend time with his sister. She tried to tell him that Cara missed him, but he highly doubted that. After Cara got married, she seemed to resent Peter a bit and he didn't know why. Neal tapped the table, silently telling him he needed to get off the phone and eat. "Hey, mom, I have to go. We need to finish eating so we can get back on the road." She sighed and wished him a safe drive, telling him she loved him. "Love you, too, mom. See you all in a few hours."

Peter hung up and set the phone down, looking at Neal who seemed to be absorbed in his phone. "They're calling for a whiteout within the next hour or so, so we need to get moving if we want to avoid that disaster."

Instead of finishing, he put his burger back into the wrapper and decided he'd take it with them. He was really hungry and wished he could have eaten more than he did. He wanted to ask Neal if he'd feel up to driving. After all, Neal had a permit now. He's been practicing off and on with Peter when Nicky's at school, Moz can babysit, or he's over at Trent's house. "I hate to ask this of you, Neal, but—"

Neal held out his hand eagerly, grinning. Peter raised an eyebrow. "I know you're going to ask me to drive."

"Do you feel comfortable driving in this?"

Neal rolled his eyes, nodding. "You do realize I lived in New York for a while, right? I had the car until it broke down and I did drive through the winter." Peter sighed, reaching into his jacket. He pulled the keys out and handed them to Neal. "Besides, you drove for more than half of the trip. You could really use a break."

Nicky packed up his meal, Neal threw his out with the exception of his drink, and they all went outside. Neal unlocked the car and Peter helped Nicky inside before getting into the passenger seat. They all buckled up and Neal made sure to check before starting the car. He did exactly what Peter taught him about backing out. He looked through windows and such, looking left and right continuously to make sure he wouldn't hit anyone. He did it perfectly and Peter smiled. The car got stuck for a moment, but Neal knew how to rock the car and smooth down the snow. He kept putting it into drive and reverse until he was finally able to go forward without any issue.

Peter wasn't entirely nervous as Neal drove. He trusted him to be careful—and was very fortunate that Neal kept his permit in the car just in case they needed it. After about an hour, Peter started dozing off to Neal and Nicky singing along to Christmas songs. He loved Neal's voice when he sang and was embarrassed to say that it actually helped him sleep better.


	15. Chapter 15

Peter woke up two and a half hours after falling asleep to Neal yelling, "Son of a bitch!" He jumped in his seat, twisting to look at Neal. "I almost got sideswiped by some bastard in a hurry," Neal hissed. "He came up behind me in my blind spot. I wasn't even trying to switch lanes and he still managed to all but scrape the car. I could have reached in and shook his passenger's hand—that's how close he was."

"Calm down," Peter whispered, rubbing Neal's shoulder. Neal was white-knuckling the wheel and that was never a good thing to do. "You didn't do anything wrong. Besides, your language—"

Neal sighed. "Nick's had his headphones in for the last hour, so I've had no one to talk to. He can't hear me, so I just let the road-rage out." Peter was looking at him, head tilted in curiosity. "Nick got mad at me when I told him we weren't going to stop at another McDonalds since we just ate not too long ago, so he started ignoring me."

Peter shook his head. "Do you want to switch seats? I can drive the rest of the way."

"No. You drove enough. I'm fine." Peter heard the edge in Neal's voice. Something else happened while he was asleep. He was sure of it. His eyes flickered in Peter's direction for a split second. "I stopped for a bathroom break and found your gun."

He didn't understand now. "You're upset that I have my gun?"

"Yeah, kind of." Neal sounded like Peter should have known that. "You told me we were going to have a nice, relaxed week at your parents' house, assuming they don't bitch about you being gay, and then I find your gun. I don't know why you brought it with you if this is just a family visitation. I left _mine_ at home."

"I'm glad I brought it," Peter said defensively. "It saved me and Nicky at the first stop when Adler's man tried to pull a gun on me."

Neal sighed, giving up. "Fine." Peter didn't like this conversation. He wanted to make Neal feel better, but he couldn't do that while they were in the car and he wouldn't have an opportunity anytime soon since they had Nicky with them. He could discretely reach over and stroke Neal through his jeans though… Nicky shouldn't notice that… "Are you thinking about giving me a handjob or something?" Neal asked incredulously, his voice low enough to be a whisper only they could hear in case Nicky was listening now. Peter's face heated up. He had no idea he was being obvious, but he supposed staring at Neal's crotch would kind of give off that impression. "This is neither the time nor the place, Peter."

Peter saw how Neal's jaw clenched. "Sweetheart, pull over, please."

"Why?"

"You're irritated with me and I don't want you to drive like that." Peter thought it was an innocent enough statement…

"Oh, now I'm incapable of driving? I can't do anything right, can I, Peter?"

Sighing, Peter rubbed his arm. "Do you hear yourself?" Neal really needed some sleep. They'd gotten up around four in the morning after going to sleep around two. Peter felt bad that he'd deprived Neal of sleep. He himself was tired, but Neal _really_ needed his sleep. Peter was cranky regardless. Neal only got cranky when he was ready to just fall over.

Neal sighed heavily, doing as Peter asked. He flipped the turning signal on and pulled over to get into the shoulder of the road. He turned to look at Peter, frowning. "I don't know why I'm so irritable right now," he admitted.

Peter unbuckled and leaned over, pulling Neal's head close to kiss his forehead. "You're tired."

"We went to bed at the same time. I'm sure you—"

Peter was already getting out of the car and Neal gave up on trying to argue with Peter that he could keep driving. They both met at the nose of the car. Peter rested one hand on Neal's hip, the other lifting to stroke Neal's floppy hair. He kissed Neal softly. "Do you want me to move the stuff out of the back so you can stretch out with Nick?"

Neal shook his head. "No, I'll just stretch out with you when we get there." He tried to smile, but he was getting really cold.

Peter smiled, kissing Neal's cheek. "Get in, sweetheart." They both moved to get into the car quickly. It was too damn cold to stand out there to talk and kiss. Pneumonia wasn't what either of them had in mind when they decided to go out for Christmas.

The remainder of the ride was quiet. Neal and Peter spoke occasionally, talking about random things. They were finally in Portland. All that remained was getting to the right neighborhood. Peter said they were going to Munjoy Hill. As they drove along, Peter described to Neal how the place looked in the summer—how beautiful the buildings looked with trees surrounding them and the sun shining. "Are we there?" Nicky asked, perking up when Peter started to slow and pull over.

"Yep." He parked the car in the driveway since there seemed to be plenty of room. "All right, boys. Get your stuff and let's get inside before we freeze."

Neal and Nicky didn't need to be told twice. It only took them about two minutes to grab the suitcases and bags, Neal carrying most of it to make up for Peter driving for basically the entirety of the trip. The house had three floors, which Neal found odd considering Peter's parents were the only people living here. "Peter, I'm cold," Nicky moaned.

Peter rang the doorbell and his mom appeared not even thirty seconds later. "Peter!" she cried out excitedly. "Come in, my darling. Nicky pushed past Peter to get inside and his mom just stared after him in awe. "Oh, what a beautiful baby you have." Peter went in, Neal following him tentatively and shutting the door behind him. When his mom saw Neal, she paled. To Peter's embarrassment, her question was, "Did El become transgender? If so, that's very nice work."

Neal flushed, staring up at Peter. "No, mom. Actually, this is Neal." Neal freed up one hand, extending it towards Peter's mother, who just stared at it. "He's my boyfriend." She gasped and Neal retracted his hand, biting his lip.

"Peter, what happened with El?" She sounded absolutely devastated and it made Neal feel sick. He was fairly certain he was paler than Peter's mom.

He stepped further inside, reaching out for Neal. "El and I mutually dissolved our marriage. I met Neal at work." He threw his arm around Neal's shoulders.

She was in absolute disbelief. They were a heavily Catholic family and she thought she was more enlightened because she had a few friends who were gay, but the very idea of her own _son_ being gay seemed appalling. "Honey, I think you need to take a step back and—"

"Neal and I have been together for several months, mom." Her eyes widened and Neal thought she was going to faint.

Deciding to avoid anymore of the awkwardness, Neal offered, "Which room is yours, Peter?"

"_Ours,_" he corrected, "and it's up on the top floor, second door to the left." Neal nodded, calling for Nicky to come back from wherever he'd gone. Nicky was holding his suitcase, looking up at his father expectantly. "Go with daddy upstairs. He can have the room beside ours." Neal was about to herd Nicky up the stairs, but Peter pulled him back gently, kissing his jaw. "I'm going to talk to her about this. You go get settled in and I'll be up in a few."

"Okay," Neal said quietly. Nicky was already racing up the stairs when Neal started to head up. He didn't want to stay downstairs very long because he knew Peter's mother was going to make comments about him. He'd prefer that she did it out of earshot.

When both Nicky and Neal were out of sight, he turned on his mother. "I know what you're thinking. This isn't one of those convenient things and he's not a porn star. He's a normal, sweet man."

His mother felt the sudden urge to slap Peter. "Your father is going to have a heart attack when he sees your 'boyfriend,' Peter. Honey, he can't stay here…"

"You're being extremely insensitive about this. Between you and dad, I thought you'd be more understanding because you told me all you wanted was for me to be happy." He looked at her exasperatedly. "He makes me happy, mom. I'm not even sorry to say that."

She gaped at him. "Peter Michael Burke! He needs to leave this house at once." She even stomped her foot on the floor, which almost made Peter laugh. "This is unacceptable in our home and especially for this holiday."

Much to Peter's dismay, Neal happened to come down to hear that. Neal was looking for his clothes and wondered if they were in one of the suitcases Peter brought in. Neal's entire demeanor changed and Peter gave him an apologetic look. Neal retreated up the stairs and Peter was furious. "Mom, I love him. I don't want him to leave. I don't care if you accept us or not. I don't need any of you. He and Nicky are my family now."

"Family? Peter, you can't even marry him!" That thought crossed Peter's mind a few times since he'd gotten together with Neal, but it didn't bother him. They'd make a commitment to each other somehow, with or without a marriage license. "I hope to God—"

Neal came down the stairs quickly, his jacket and hat on. Peter's lips parted and he tried to stop Neal. "Peter, just let me go, okay? I know when I'm not welcome. I'm leaving Nicky with you because I want him to have a good Christmas."

Peter wouldn't loosen the grip he had on Neal's arm. "Please," he pleaded quietly. "Don't leave, Neal. I want you here." He saw how much pain was in Neal's eyes, how hurt he was by what his mother was saying. "Neal, I love you. Don't go." He didn't even care if he made a fool of himself in front of his mother by begging Neal to stay. He really didn't want him to leave.

Neal shook his head. "I love you, too, but I can't stay here." He wrenched his arm out of Peter's grip and opened the door, pausing. "I have my phone. You can call me whenever, okay?" He didn't look back at Peter. He just walked out, hands in his pockets, head down. The snow was blowing harshly, but he figured it couldn't hurt more than Peter's mother's words. He walked past the _Taurus_ and started heading back the way Peter had driven them.

Peter stared at the door, on the brink of tears. His heart felt like it was crumbling into dust. "I hope you're happy," he hissed at his mother, grabbing the suitcases he'd left in the doorway and trudging up the stairs to be with Nicky. He wanted so desperately to go after Neal, but he really didn't trust his mother's tongue with Nicky. "Nick?" he called out once he was on the third floor.

"In here, Peter." He sounded like he was crying, so Peter hurried over to the room. "I want daddy to come back. He can't walk all the way home this time, Peter." Nicky was looking at him desperately, thinking Peter was the only one who could bring Neal back to him. "Daddy's going to freeze," he said tearfully.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the temperature for Portland and realized it was negative twenty-three outside and the wind chill was getting worse since a storm was incoming. Neal _would_ freeze if he didn't go get him. Peter knelt in front of him, taking his small hands. "I won't let him freeze, Nick. He's upset." That was the understatement of the year right there. Neal was more than upset and Peter knew it. He tried to stay composed before leaving, but Peter knew he was probably crying right now, which made his heart hurt even more. He wiped Nicky's tears away, then stood up. "I'm going after him. You stay here."

He didn't wait for a response. He darted down the stairs and heard his mother and sister talking quietly in the living room. "Peter?" It was Cara's voice. He was fixing his jacket and making sure he had his keys. "Peter, where are you going?"

"Going to get my boyfriend before he freezes to death," he said bitterly, leaving quickly. He made sure to slam the door behind him. He flipped through the keys until he'd found the right one, but he'd walked all the way down to the end of the driveway. He followed the footprints that were heading east. "Damn it, Neal," he whispered. He went and unlocked the car, getting in quickly. He didn't bother with the heat at first, but figured Neal would need it, so he jacked it up. He backed out too fast and nearly slid into the mailbox across the street.

He straightened out and turned, straightening out again. He wanted to floor it and he would have under different weather conditions. He went as fast as he dared and was able to catch up to Neal in a matter of minutes. He pulled up alongside him, scaring him. He quickly rolled the window down. "Peter?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Get in here, Neal. _Please._" Neal hesitated, but not very long. He pulled the door open and slid in, shivering. He took Neal's face in both hands, kissing him everywhere. "I'm so sorry," he said against the cold skin of Neal's jaw. "I couldn't let you walk away, Neal, in more ways than one."

He told Neal to hold his hands out in front of the heat, hoping it would warm him up a bit while he tried to find somewhere to pull into so he could turn around. It took about three minutes to find a big enough driveway to turn into and was heading back to the house not long thereafter. "I'm such a sorry excuse for a—"

"Don't go there," Peter warned. "I came after you, so don't you dare think you mean nothing." Neal tried to keep the sounds of his teeth chattering to a minimum, but was failing miserably. Peter was frowning even as he pulled into the driveway of his parents' house. He didn't want to get out yet and knew Neal felt the same way. "We'll just have to endure the pain," Peter said sorrowfully. "Or we can grab everything and leave."

Neal shook his head. "This is your family—"

"Families consist of people who don't shut other members of the family out," Peter said bitterly. "I have you and Nicky. You two are all I need, Neal. If you want to go home, I'll take you home." He was sincere, his jaw set firmly as he spoke to Neal. What bothered Neal was that he wasn't sure whether he wanted to leave or not. Peter leaned closer to him, pressing kisses against the part of his neck that was visible.

Neal sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "I don't know what I want. I want to have a family Christmas—a big one—for Nicky because it's always been me, him, and Moz. He doesn't know what it's like to have actual family—even if he isn't yours biologically."

"He may as well be mine," Peter said softly. "I love him as my son." Neal smiled, taking a moment to think he was the luckiest man on the planet because someone wonderful came into his life to stay—to be his family. Peter sat up, looking into Neal's pale blue eyes. They both startled when someone tapped on the driver side window. Peter spun and Neal looked around him. Peter rolled the window down. "Dad?"

His father looked into the car. "Get your asses in the house. His lips are going blue." Neal was shocked by how Peter's dad was acting. "Come on, boys. I had Cara brewing some hot chocolate earlier and it should still be nice and warm." He stepped back while Peter opened the door. Neal, despite his aching and freezing body, opened his door and managed to meet Peter on the other side of the car. He felt strange when Peter's father gave him the onceover. He gestured for Neal to go in first. "Kitchen's off to the right, son." Peter was astonished by his father—how he treated Neal. He called him '_son._'

Peter and his father followed Neal inside, paused to take his boots off and help Neal get out of his, and then they made their way into the kitchen. Peter was quick to grab a mug and fill it up, bringing it right over to Neal. Cara, Peter's dad, and Cara's husband were all gathered around the two and Neal was starting to feel claustrophobic. Peter stripped Neal out of his winter coat, going to hang it up with his own. On his way back in, he'd grabbed a blanket and draped it around Neal's shoulders. It was quiet while Neal drank the hot chocolate. He didn't know what to say or do with them all watching him—even Peter. "Dad, I—"

"I spoke to your mother, Peter." Peter swallowed and Neal glanced back at him. "Don't look so terrified. You're my son," he said quietly, smiling. "I can't say the same for your mother, but I'm glad you're happy, Peter."

Neal turned around and went right for Peter, who immediately wrapped his arms around the younger man. "Thank you, dad." He sounded absolutely relieved and he was. He expected his mother and father's reactions to be reversed, but he couldn't imagine how his world would crumble if he was a disgrace in the eyes of his father—the one man he called his hero throughout his life. Neal nuzzled his face against Peter's jaw, whimpering as he shook. He was starting to warm up though, Peter realized as he stroked Neal's neck.

Peter's dad stepped closer, holding his hand out to Neal. "Jon Burke," he said, introducing himself.

Peter took the mug out of Neal's hands, watching as Neal shook hands with his father. "Neal Caffrey." Jon smiled at him. "Mister Burke—"

Jon held up a hand. "I said I'm Jon for a reason, son." He reached out and clasped Neal's shoulder. "Peter, why don't you go get him a change of clothes? His jeans are soaked." Peter gaped at Neal, surprised that he hadn't noticed it before. He was so observant of Neal's current state, yet he didn't realize Neal was probably chilled to the bone because his pants were soaked through.

He took off to do just that. He'd lay out warm sweatpants and Neal's black, long sleeved shirt. Once the winter hit, that was pretty much all Neal wore during the night to keep from freezing.

Neal tried to avoid eye contact as much as he could, but everyone kept looking at him. "Sweetie, there's nothing to be afraid of," Cara told him, coming closer. She touched his chest gently. "Mom's shocked all of us. She's never seemed like a bigot until she spoke about you and Peter." Cara stroked his hair, smiling. "I can tell you love Peter as much as he loves you. Despite my mom's earlier words, welcome to the Burke family, Neal."

"I'm really sorry if I ruined the holiday by coming here with him. I… He really wanted to come up here and he really wanted me to go with him." Neal frowned and Jon stepped forward. "Jon, I didn't mean for all hell to break loose," he whispered. "Your wife—"

"She's not allowed to say another word to either of you unless it's clean and appropriate," Jon interjected. "If you make my boy happy, then you're perfect. I always thought Peter and El were awkward together." He smiled at Neal, taking his hand. "With you, he looks happy—actually happy, not forced."

Neal smiled in return. "I try to keep him happy." He heard Peter coming down the stairs and spoke quickly in hushed tones. "He was really worried about what you'd say, so thank you—for accepting this, us. I can speak for both of us by saying we're extremely grateful."

"I've got your clothes laid out for you, Neal," Peter said upon entering the kitchen. Neal set the mug down, pulling the blanket around himself as he walked over to Peter. Peter rested his hands on Neal's hips, stepping back, bringing Neal forward and away from the kitchen. They stood near the stairway and Peter smiled at him. "My dad really likes you and he hasn't even gotten to see you at your best."

Neal chuckled. "I hope that's a good thing," he whispered. Peter kissed his nose and took his hand, leading him upstairs. They went into their room. Nicky was playing with Peter's nieces who were about eighteen and twenty-one, but were more than happy to play with him. "I'm sorry I ran out on you, but thank you for coming to get me."

Peter kissed his left temple. "I'd do anything for you. Now, let's go get you into something a bit warmer."


	16. Chapter 16

It was Christmas Eve and everyone had been very mature at the dinner table earlier. Peter's mother still disapproved of the relationship between Neal and Peter. She'd even accused Neal of turning her son gay, which he just walked away from because it wasn't worth arguing about.

Neal decided to call it a night after dinner, going up to his and Peter's room. They were almost out of condoms now, which sucked. Sex was one of the many ways Peter helped him feel better. It wasn't necessarily the pleasure as much as it was the intimacy, the way Peter talked endearingly to him in whispers. He loved how Peter spoke to him. He was sweet, loving, and appreciative. He was grateful that Peter didn't have to resort to calling him a slut or whore if he initiated the whole thing.

Peter spent some time downstairs with his dad and Cara. They were talking about his and Neal's relationship in a positive light. "I've been watching you two over the last two days since you both got here. Neal's great, Peter. I can tell he's not into baseball, but he still sits with you during our reruns."

Cara absolutely adored the way Neal curled up against Peter while he and his dad were watching baseball. He was completely disinterested, but didn't let it show. That's exactly how her husband was since she herself is a big baseball fan—of anything but the Mets. "Should've seen him when we were watching the more recent season. We were sitting down together and he was reading while I was working on something. As soon as I turned the television on to the sports channel, he gave me and the television all of his attention." Peter smiled at the memory. "He's perfect and I'm really glad you like him. The girls like him, too, I noticed."

"Peter, they like him because he's a smokin' hot babe," Cara teased, though she thought the same about Neal.

"Yeah, but he's mine." He chuckled. "I should probably be getting upstairs. We've got a few presents to finish wrapping because mom went on a shopping binge and pushed it on us." He paused. "Well, on me, but Neal offered to help."

Cara smacked his thigh. "Is that your way of saying you're going to have sex with him?"

Peter laughed. "No. That's later and I'm not going into detail. You're free to talk about your sex with your hubby—because you do regardless of our protests."

They kept chatting despite the fact that he wanted to go upstairs to see Neal.

Peter's mother was in her room on the phone with her sister, who was coming in on Christmas day. "Peter's supposedly gay," she sighed into the phone. She listened to her sister, glad they were on the same side. "I think he's just begging for attention by bringing this…this _twink_ into our home, Carol."

Neal, of course, heard the conversation when he came out of the bathroom. He wasn't bothered by the slur as much as he was the fact that she implied he was acting younger than he is, like he's some boy Peter picked up off of the street. He silently crept downstairs to the second floor and said, "Fairy is usually a better word." She startled, turning to face him with wide eyes. Her face was completely red. "If you want privacy, you'd normally close the door." He didn't know what to call her, so he left it at that. He couldn't call her by her first name because he hadn't been given permission, nor did he want to call her mom, or talk to her formally. He shrugged a bit before offering, "I hear 'cock sucker' is another good one."

He put his hands in his pockets and made to turn to head downstairs to the bottom floor to grab Peter and drag his ass upstairs. "I have to go, Carol." She hung up and walked briskly over to him. Before he could make it very far on the steps, she grabbed him by the collar. "You have no right to interrupt my private conversation."

"Like I said, you should close the door if you want privacy. I could hear you from upstairs." She paled at that, but chose not to give in and let him 'win.'

She pulled him up from the stairs, and pushed him into a wall. She raised her eyebrow at how easily he was pushed around. Had this been Peter, she'd be on her back right now. Peter doesn't put up with things like this, so Neal must be the more…feminine half of the 'relationship.' "I want you to leave my son, _fairy,_" she sneered. She was trying to keep her voice down and Neal was trying to refrain from striking her. He was trained to defend himself at Quantico, but this was Peter's mother. He didn't want to hit a woman if he didn't need to.

"Why can't you just let this go?" he asked exasperatedly. "I'm sorry that you're too narrow-minded to accept Peter for who he is. He's a wonderful man and you aren't allowing him to be who he is if you push me away. If you keep doing that, you'll push him away, too." She gasped quietly at that. She didn't want to lose her son. She just wanted Neal out of the picture and El back in it.

Hannah thought of something quick to reply with. "You're with him for his money, aren't you?" When he started to deny that, she insulted him further. "Peter says you've had a rough time with finding a job, which kind of implies you're lacking in money. He's been with the FBI for a good while now. If you're abusing his heart for his money, you are the worst kind of—"

"What's going on?" Peter's expression was pained. Hannah let go of Neal's collar and stepped away from him. Peter looked at Neal first, quickly observing him for any marks. He was relieved to find none and he didn't see a whole lot of distress in his eyes either. He saw a great deal of frustration.

Neal turned his face away from both of them. "Nothing, Peter." He started to head back upstairs since Peter was here now, but Peter grabbed his wrist. He stumbled backwards, falling against Peter's chest. "Peter—"

"I know you're lying to me," he whispered, making Neal swallow hard. He looked at his mother next. "What did you say about him?" She tried to play innocent, but Peter wasn't having any of it. "Dad told me you weren't going to speak to either of us if you couldn't be civil, damn it."

"Civil? Your little fairy boy cock-sucker here," she began, gesturing at Neal in disgust, "intruded on my private phone call." Peter was absolutely disgusted by how his mother described Neal. "I made a comment and he corrected me—twice, which I found very disrespectful."

Neal knew this was going to explode out of proportion and he didn't need Peter to be angry. "Peter, come upstairs with—"

"He's being disrespectful, is he?" He was in his mother's face now. "I don't see him calling anybody names or saying hurtful things. He's been nothing but kind to everyone, but you—for whatever fucking reason—choose not to let him try to be part of the family."

"Peter, please, come—"

"Damn it, Neal!" he cried, turning on him. Neal flinched, backing into the wall. The only sounds in the room were that of Peter's mother making disgusted sounds and Peter breathing heavily. He was staring at Neal angrily and the intensity of that was breaking Neal's heart. "If you're too afraid of a confrontation, get upstairs."

His lips parted and he stared at his lover in disbelief. "Peter…"

Peter shook his head, pointing at the stairs. "Go upstairs and get undressed. She obviously thinks we're going to fuck as soon as I get in there." Neal was ready to crack, but he was trying desperately not to. When Neal made no move to leave, Peter's voice rose, "Go, Neal! Now!"

Neal swallowed hard, balling his hands into fists. "No, Peter. I'm not your fucking bitch," he said, his voice uneven. "I'm fucking thirty-two. Treat me like that instead of a God damn pre-teen." That was probably the worst thing he's ever said to Peter, as far as he can remember anyway. Peter was about to snap something else at him. "Just stop it, God damn it!" he cried, pleading with Peter.

Jon came bounding up the stairs. "All right. Everyone, clear out. Hannah, in the bedroom. Peter and Neal, if you can be together in the same room without arguing, go. I need to talk to your mother." He herded Hannah into their bedroom, leaving Peter and Neal alone in the hall. Cara and her husband were at the bottom of the stairs, uncertain as to whether or not they'd be helping if they went up to talk to any of them.

Peter was breathing slower now, thinking straight. Neal was silent, staring at the floor as though it would swallow him up at any moment and he'd be grateful for it. "Neal—"

"I'll sleep in Nicky's room," he whispered. "I'm tired." Peter reached out for him and Neal smacked his hand away. "Fuck off, Peter," he said noncommittally. He turned and went upstairs, quietly opening Nicky's door, then shutting it a few moments later.

Peter sat down on the stairway between the second and third floor, head in his hands. He couldn't believe he'd gone off on Neal again. He'd be sleeping alone because of it. Neal's warmth was all he needed to sleep easily. Without him there, there was no peaceful rest. He sat there, hoping Neal would come out of the room to talk to him. After at least ten minutes, he lost hope and trudged up the remainder of the stairs, walking into his and Neal's room. He stared at the bed, frowning. Neal had even gotten the presents out so they could wrap them together. He must have been heading downstairs to get him…

He spent the next hour and a half wrapping up gifts for Nicky, his nieces, and the younger cousins he'd be seeing later on. He nearly had a heart attack when the door opened, hoping it wasn't Nicky. Neal stood in the doorway, not sure if he should go in. "I won't stop you if you want to come in," Peter said softly. Neal pushed the door open and slipped in, closing the door quietly. Then he stood there, staring at the floor. He wanted to apologize, but he was actually tired of everything, of being treated like he was a girl or some kind of gold digger. Peter could practically feel the misery in the younger man and leapt off of the bed, crossing the room to stand in front of Neal. "Will you get upset with me if I kiss you?" Neal shook his head and Peter did just that, gently holding Neal's head as he kissed his lips slowly, his tongue brushing against Neal's lips every now and then. After the third time, he was pleasantly surprised to see that Neal gave him access to his mouth, their tongues dancing back and forth in Neal's mouth.

After a few moments, Neal pulled away. "Do you think I…I'm a pussy?" Peter was taken aback by the question, tempted to ask why he thought that was even possible. "I can't fight for shit, Peter. All I do is fucking cry and bitch and whine. I might as well let my hair grow out and start painting my nails and shit. I could probably pull off the drag queen—"

"No," Peter said firmly. "I love you just the way you are. I'm sorry for what I said. It was wrong of me to imply that you're weak."

Neal ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes. "I'm working for the FBI and I can't even argue with anyone properly. I just…just give in all the time." He opened his eyes, staring painfully at Peter, who tried advancing on him. He backed away. "No, listen to me, okay? I need to man up, Peter. I shouldn't fucking cower in a corner when you yell at—"

"I shouldn't be yelling at you in the first place," he muttered.

"I never said you couldn't. I don't like it, but I piss you off." Peter gasped at that, trying to tell him that wasn't true. "I've never been the kind of guy to turn a stronger man away. It's probably how I ended up with Matthew and Garrett. They pushed me around and I liked it, couldn't do a damn thing about it. I have the physical and emotional scars from those two relationships alone, Peter, and I don't want you to treat me like I'm a piece of shit." Again, Peter tried to interrupt, but Neal held up his hand. "I know you love me. I don't doubt that. I just wish you'd look at me like I'm just another man, not like I'm someone who needs to be taken care of all the time. I love having your shoulder to cry on, but it happens so often that I'm actually considering making myself a fucking girl just to play the part more accurately."

Peter rushed forward, pushing Neal back against the wall. He assaulted him with kisses, making Neal moan, which frustrated him because he felt like Peter was trying to avoid this conversation. He was surprised when Peter slid down his body and fell to his knees. He knew exactly where this was going and wasn't in the mood, even though his cock said differently. "I don't want you to be a girl," he whispered. "I want you—my man. I know I fuck up sometimes, Neal. I don't know how to have the perfect relationship. All I had was El and that wasn't even real."

He leaned against Neal's crotch, nuzzling the fabric of the sweatpants with his cheek. Now that Neal took a look at this from a different angle, he realized Peter was trying to give him control, to make himself submissive. "Don't do this. Get up, Peter."

"I can't leave this alone," he whispered. "I've made you so unhappy because I put you down. I'm supposed to…supposed to lift you up, Neal." He truly felt terrible and hoped Neal understood. "I didn't realize how terrible I've been to you, how unfair I've been, and I'm so sorry. I strongly feel that you deserve the best and—"

Neal sighed, pulling on Peter's sweater. "I mean it, get up." Peter gave in, returning to his full height, looking down at Neal. "Can you promise me we'll work on this? I want to strengthen myself emotionally, but I need you to support me, Peter. I can't do this anymore. I took too much abuse from the others. You're my safe haven."

Peter nodded quickly. "I'll do everything to make this better, everything and then some."

"That's all I'm asking," Neal said. "I need effort and not just my own. You say I'm your soul mate, your other half… Peter, show me that, okay? Without sex, I mean. I don't want you to physically show it to me. Just…help me with this." Peter nodded, holding his hand out for Neal's. After a moment of hesitation, Neal took it. "Thank you."

•◊•

"Daddy, daddy!" Neal was woken up with a swift knee to the groin. He cried out, immediately waking Peter. "Oops," Nicky mumbled.

Neal didn't move, his eyes closed as he breathed deeply. "Nick, _off._"

Peter pulled Nicky closer to him, sitting him on his side of the bed. "Jesus," Peter said after looking at Neal's face. "Are you okay?"

"I can't answer that without swearing at you right now." He gave it a few minutes before he opened his eyes. "Nick, you've got to be more careful, buddy." Peter kissed Nicky's hair, then scooted closer to Neal.

"Merry Christmas, daddy. Merry Christmas, Peter." He hugged them both, leaning over his father carefully. They both said 'Merry Christmas, Nicky,' and the nine year old ran off to go to the Christmas tree in the living room downstairs.

Peter was hovering over Neal, smiling softly at him. "Really fucking hurt," Neal mumbled, turning over. Peter noticed the bite mark he'd left on Neal's neck and bit his lip. Neal's eyes flickered up to meet Peter's and his brows furrowed. "What's wrong, other than my dick hurting?"

"Nothing's wrong. Does that hurt?" he asked, touching the mark.

"No, not really."

"It's going to show…"

"And?" Neal raised his eyebrows, challenging Peter to give him a reason to care about whether or not Peter's family saw the love bite he'd been given during the night. "Should probably get dressed now."

Peter nodded, but laid down on his back, reaching over to pull Neal on top of him. They were chest to chest and Neal gave him an amused look. He waited for Neal to lean down to kiss him first and wasn't disappointed. Their kiss started off moderately chaste and became very dirty, tongues sliding together, teeth getting involved. "Oh, God, Neal. I'm going to fuck you if you don't stop tormenting me," Peter said breathlessly.

Neal grinned. "And if that's what I'm going for?"

"Do we have time?"

"No, but we could try anyway."

They both laughed. "All right, sweetheart. We need to get dressed like you said." He pulled Neal's legs around his hips as he slid off of the bed, holding Neal all the while. He was very grateful that Nicky closed the door before leaving; otherwise someone might get an eyeful of nakedness.

Neal moaned, kissing Peter's jaw. "You're a real pain in the ass, Burke." He realized that he'd just made a very lame pun and chuckled. "Well, it works for us anyway."

Peter and Neal were the last to come downstairs and into the living room. They were wearing sweaters that almost matched and immediately sat down on the couch nearest to Nicky. Peter pulled Neal into his lap, holding Neal's hands in front of them both. "Come on, kiddo. Open up your gifts," Cara said, smiling at Nicky. She was holding a camera in one hand, rubbing her enlarged belly with the other.

Nicky tore into the gifts that were from 'grandma and grandpa.' Peter grimaced at that, but made no comment. Presently, he wasn't sure if his mother could be considered Nicky's grandma with how she'd been treating Neal. His dad though was definitely grandpa material. "Daddy, look!" Neal blinked and looked at what Nicky was showing him. He chuckled, asking him what it was even though he already knew. "It's the Nintendo DS, dad!"

Neal gave Peter a soft punch, knowing Peter had some hand in his parents' buying that. Neal couldn't afford it at any point, so he'd mentioned saving up for it to Peter, who took that an extra step. "That's awesome, Nicky," Neal said eagerly.

"Oh, cool!" Neal raised his eyebrows, turning to look at Peter, giving him the 'what the hell did you do?' look. "Daddy!" He held up at least ten games for the DS, consisting of Mario, Pacman, and Pokémon. "Can you please, please, please help me set this up after I'm done?"

Neal gave Peter a pointed look. "Of course, baby."

Peter leaned closer to kiss Neal's shoulder, mumbling, "I only asked about the DS. They bought the games, sweetheart." Neal rolled his eyes and Peter seemed to know. "Hey, just you wait until you see your gift from me."

"If it's expensive, I'm going to kill you," Neal murmured. Peter didn't answer that and Neal mentally sighed. "Should I just kill you now and save time?"

Peter laughed against Neal's back. "Nah. You couldn't do it even if you really wanted to." He knew he'd pushed it there and Neal gave him a challenging look. "I'd rather you didn't though," he added teasingly.

Neal shook his head. "Peter Burke," he muttered, sighing.

Peter was silent for a moment, squeezing Neal's hands. He really wanted Neal to open his gift now because he couldn't wait to see his face.


	17. Chapter 17

The entire Burke house was filled with thrilled, little kids running all over. Peter didn't know he had so many young cousins or second-cousins. He had no idea what they were to him, just that they were relatives. They were all really nice to Nicky, which was great. They even asked him if Peter was his dad and Nicky told them he was, which made Peter happier than he thought he would have been when he heard that. He was sitting at the dinner table, trying to avoid the black fedora his parents had given him while watching the kids play with the toys Santa brought them and that grandma and grandpa gave them. He's not a hat kind of guy, so it wasn't very special to him, but he graciously accepted it from them nonetheless. They hadn't gotten anything for Neal, but Jon promised he'd send something as soon as he could so Neal felt like part of the family. Jon walked up to stand beside Peter, observing the kids with him. "Where's your other half?"

"He said he needed to go get something."

Neal came downstairs and rounded the corner, looking nervous. He was holding a box, looking directly at Peter. "This…is probably a shitty gift, but I tried," he whispered. He handed the box to Peter and took the chair next to him, biting his lip. Peter smiled at him while he opened the box.

Peter was impressed by how well everything was packed. He slid the wrapping paper back and grinned. There were a few mugs inside that were decorated brilliantly, he thought. "Neal," he chuckled, "'World's Great FBI Agent'? You're too biased." He said it teasingly so as not to upset Neal. He pulled another one out; it was red with several small hearts painted around it. It had '2009 Best Lover Award' written across it. He couldn't help but smile lovingly at it. He looked at Neal, who was still biting his lip. He pulled the last mug out. It was black with very tiny stars painted on it. 'Te amo magis quam vita' was inscribed beautifully on it, the calligraphy of it very impressive. "Oh, Neal, these are amazing, sweetheart. I love them. Where did you find these? I've never seen anything like them."

Neal's face flushed when he mumbled, "I…put the designs on them." Peter's head snapped up and he was looking directly at Neal. "I wanted them to be more personalized, so I bought generic mugs and painted when I could."

Peter set the mugs and box down on the table, astonished and touched. "Get up, you," he said sweetly. Neal was surprised, but did as he was asked. Peter pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his neck. "I love them, Neal. They're beautiful." He should have guessed that these were personalized considering the last of the mugs had a Latin inscription and Latin was a language Neal taught himself. "Thank you so much, sweetheart."

The younger man laughed, relieved. "You're welcome, Peter." He closed his eyes, relaxing into the embrace. He was afraid Peter would ask him 'what child painted these?' because he really wasn't sure if the small paintings were all that great. Nicky and Mozzie said they were, but he disagreed.

Cara came into the dining room and immediately looked at the mugs on the table. Peter was eager to show them off. "Look what Neal gave me," he said, letting go of Neal to grab the mugs. "He painted these _himself._"

"Wow," she said, taking one and turning it in her hand. "I may have to call on your artistic ability for my work some time, Neal." He blushed and she grinned. "These are really good, considering how small you had to make everything." She stepped closer to Neal and whispered, "Perfect gift for my brother, sweetie," with a smile.

Peter kissed Neal's cheek. "Stay here." He started heading upstairs and Neal sighed.

"He spent more on me than I did on him," Neal muttered. "I feel like a cheap boyfriend."

Cara patted his cheek, leaning closer to kiss his nose. "Honey, didn't you see how happy he was? Dork loves his coffee and those mugs will make his day every time he drinks out of one." Neal smiled at her. "Besides, it's not the price that determines the value, Neal. He'll treasure those mugs as long as he lives because _you_ put your heart into them."

"Thank you, Cara," he whispered, appreciating her comments more than she realized. As soon as Peter came back downstairs, Neal felt guilty. Peter had what looked like a long shoebox, but he knew there was something expensive inside.

Peter walked over to him. "Open this, Neal." He met Neal's eyes and smiled. "Hey, I know you'll like this as much as I love the mugs."

Neal chuckled, putting the box on the table. He pulled the top of the box off and his breath hitched. "Peter," he said, looking at him in despair. He hadn't spent even a _tenth_ of what this cost. Peter rested his hand on the small of Neal's back, kissing his cheek. He pulled out a vintage bottle of _Château Margaux._ "This is over one hundred years old, Peter. This must have cost you a damn fortune," he whispered, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"You're worth more than any price on this bottle," Peter whispered in his ear. Neal felt sick with guilt. He knew he shouldn't have talked so much about wishing he could have certain things. Expensive was an understatement in this situation.

Of course, at that particular moment, just as Neal was about to kiss and thank Peter, Peter's mother entered the dining room. She caught sight of the bottle and nearly screamed, "I knew you were with him for his money!"

Neal jumped and Peter wrapped his arm around Neal. "He had no idea I'd be getting this for him, mom. It's his Christmas gift." He didn't feel like he had to explain himself. Cara and his father were rather impressed by the exchange of gifts between the two of them, so he didn't understand why his mother had to comment. "It's not the price that matters," he said firmly.

"This little whore is only with you because you'll buy him pricy things. He—"

"My son is in the other room!" Neal whispered angrily. He never liked those kinds of words when his son was around. "Don't you _dare_ insult me. I didn't ask Peter to buy this."

"Peter doesn't know any better! He's probably spent just as much on you to get you into bed with him."

By now, all of the little kids were coming towards the dining room. Cara and her husband were quick to get them all into the living room again. "I don't know why you think I'm a prostitute," he hissed. "Yeah, I'm not the richest guy in the world, but I would never ask Peter to spend money on me. I—"

She stepped closer to him and Peter was trying to get Neal out of the way. "You think sucking his cock and letting him put his in your ass isn't prostitution? How much is he paying you?"

Neal's eyes watered. "He isn't paying me! I'm not a fucking prostitute!" Neal was trembling, but still managed to push Peter aside without much effort. "I love your son!" She scoffed at him and Jon tried to pull her out of the room, but neither of the two was finished. "You can't change who Peter is, so stop trying for fuck's sake!" he yelled, exasperated. "I want my son to enjoy this—a family gathering—and he can't because the _only_ woman he could actually call his grandmother wants nothing to do with his cock-sucking father who just happens to love her son. This is Christmas, God damn it, so get into the fucking spirit and leave our sexual preferences the fuck alone."

Peter wanted to do something, to tell his mother off, but he remembered what Neal asked of him. Neal isn't weak. He can defend himself. The most he could do was make sure it didn't get physical, so he kept a hand on Neal's back. He knew Neal wouldn't hit his mother, but he wasn't sure what she was capable of. Much to everyone's surprise, Hannah had no reply to what Neal said. She was pale while Neal breathed heavily, his face redder than Peter ever remembered seeing it. As yet another surprise, Hannah let Jon drag her out of the room.

It was quiet in the dining room and Neal felt angrier because he'd said so many vulgar things within earshot of children—one of them being his son. "Neal…" Peter whispered.

Neal rubbed his eyes with his palms, his chest heaving. "Thank you for the bottle, Peter," he said hoarsely. "I'm going to head up to bed. I can't deal with this right now." He gingerly picked up the bottle and turned to head over to the stairway, Peter following him. "Peter, this is—"

"You, Neal, are my everything," he said fiercely. "I'm not going to leave you alone when you're hurting." He caressed Neal's cheeks. "I'm really sorry for everything she's put you through. We can leave sooner than we'd planned if you want. Nicky's got his gifts and I gave everyone theirs."

"I just want to go lay down for a few minutes," Neal said, frustrated. "My head hurts."

He wasn't sure if the migraine was from his own yelling or something else. "Can I go up with you?"

Neal almost shook his head, but nodded a moment later. "Can you tell your sister and the kids that I'm really sorry? I didn't—"

Peter kissed him. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he said, "but I'll pass the message along either way. You head up and I'll be right behind you, sweetheart." Neal nodded, gripping the railing as he walked upstairs. Peter went into the living room and found Cara and her husband trying to distract the kids. Nicky was the second oldest there and he looked right at Peter, a sad look on his face. "Neal's really sorry for yelling. Everything's okay now, kids." Nicky was about to ask if he could see Neal, but Peter just shook his head slowly. Nicky understood that his father probably needed a few minutes to himself.

After a few moments of talking to Cara about everything that was going on, he made his way upstairs. When he went into his room, he found Neal laying on his back, knees bent and hands clasped together on his stomach. The bottle of wine was on the nightstand. Neal wouldn't open it until a very special occasion, he knew, but he was glad he'd given Neal something wonderful. After all, he was well aware of what that occasion would be and he was more than happy to wait to drink it with Neal. "Come here," Neal pleaded quietly, reaching out for Peter.

He didn't hesitate, taking Neal's hand and joining him on the bed. He was lying on his stomach, kissing Neal's palm, wrist, and veins slowly. "How'd it feel to let loose?"

"On your mom? Not pleasant, that's for sure." He rolled his head to look at Peter, smiling. "Felt good to actually speak my mind though. Dropped one too many F-bombs, I'd say."

Peter chuckled, licking Neal's pulse. "That's not what you think when we're—"

"Peter? Neal?" Peter turned to look over at the doorway. His mother stood there, her hands clasped together, a look of apology on her face. "Can I come in?"

"Are you going to call him a prostitute?" She shook her head. "Are you going to be inappropriate?" Again, she shook her head. He looked at Neal, who nodded slightly. "The moment you say something I don't like, you're leaving the room."

She came in and Neal sat up, crossing his legs. Peter stayed where he was, resting his hand on Neal's thigh. "Neal, I'm terribly sorry for how I've treated you over the last few days…" She looked at him sadly, but he kept his face neutral. If her apology wasn't worthy of his forgiveness, he didn't want her thinking it was if he smiled. "I don't know your family situation, but when you said I was the only woman in your son's life that could be a grandmother, it broke my heart. And you were right about my son, too. I can't change him, but I don't want to either—not really." She looked at Peter for a moment before focusing on Neal. "I think I was upset with you because my first husband, before Peter's father, turned out to be gay and left me for another man. When I saw you, I wondered if El felt as bad as I did when he left me. It was kind of like you were Peter's mistress that he gave all of his time to in the end."

Peter hadn't known that about his mom. He thought his father was the only man she'd ever been with because they'd made it seem like that. Neal was still quiet. "Mom, before you continue, El is actually a lesbian. We were…both using our marriage as a cover to please our families." He looked at Neal then, stroking his thigh slowly. "When I met Neal, I knew I couldn't keep lying to everyone anymore."

Hannah nodded, understanding. "Neal, you've tried so hard to be kind to me when I've been so bitter and I pushed you far beyond your limits today. I don't deserve your forgiveness, nor would I ask it of you." She gave him a small smile. "If my Peter is happy, then you must be what he wants. I was too…narrow-minded to see that before," she said, using Neal's words from the previous night. That didn't go unnoticed by him. "I give you both my blessing and I hope for the best in your relationship, sweethearts."

Peter looked up at Neal, his fingers still moving slowly over his thigh. Neal shared a brief look with him before Peter moved his hand and Neal slid off of the bed. He walked around it to stand in front of Peter's mother, holding his hand out. "Neal Caffrey," he whispered.

She didn't avoid the handshake this time, instead taking his hand in a firm, but delicate grip. "Hannah Burke," she said in return. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart."

He allowed himself to smile a little. "The pleasure is mine."

•◊•

The house had settled dramatically since Neal and Hannah's blowout earlier. Peter had Neal in his lap, arms wrapped around his waist. He'd had a few glasses of wine at his mother's insistence and Peter really hoped she wasn't intentionally getting Neal drunk. "Why don't you tell us a little bit about your family, sweetie?" Hannah asked, seating herself beside Jon.

"My mother was never really there for me," Neal said, sipping at the wine Hannah had gotten him. "My father wasn't either. The story with my step-father isn't really all that important at the moment. Nicky's mom, Kate, died after giving birth to him." Hannah frowned at that, remembering the friends she'd lost for the same reasons. "I was having issues before I got the call. I didn't know I had a son or that Kate was ever pregnant, but they were calling me to tell me I was listed as the father." Peter kissed his shoulder. "It took me a little while to take it all in, but a close friend helped me out of the dark and I brought Nick into my life."

Hannah and Jon were sitting across from the two. The kids were all playing upstairs with Cara and her husband while the four of them stayed downstairs. Hannah's sister was coming in late and the other parents, Peter's cousins, aunts, and such, were smoking outside. "I'm sorry, sweetie. You had to raise your baby all alone."

Neal nodded slowly. "I'm not going to say it was easy by any means, but I'd never change what I did. I sacrificed a lot for him, but it was worth it." He remembered trying to get in contact with Kate's parents, to tell them about their grandson, but they'd spat slurs at him about his sexuality, claiming they wanted nothing to do with him or the child because their Kate was gone. They blamed him and he blamed himself at times, too, but he'd gotten over it. Kate had complications and she knew that there was a possibility that she wouldn't make it despite the doctors' best efforts. "There were a lot of rough spots when this all started, but things did get better. My ex-boyfriend was…abusive. I was fortunate that the relationship was over shortly after I'd brought Nicky into our lives because I don't know how I would have been able to live with myself if I'd let Nicky grow up with that bastard."

Peter started counting how many glasses of wine Neal had within the last hour once he'd drained his current glass and went to refill it. "Sweetheart," he said, drawing Neal's attention. He saw how glassy-eyed Neal was and frowned. "I think you've had enough." Neal sighed, leaning back against him. Peter took the glass from him, setting it down away from him.

"Meeting Peter changed my life entirely," he admitted. "I lived inside myself for a long time. I didn't know how to open up to anyone." He shook his head, laughing lightly. "Peter cracked me somehow and I'm grateful that he's still with me after everything I told him about my past."

Neal was going downhill fast, Peter realized. He'd had at least six glasses of wine, so he was probably buzzed. However, his dad did give Neal some beer, too. "Peter's a romantic. He wouldn't leave you even if you told him the most abhorrent thing possible. He sees people for who they are, not for what they've done."

Peter gripped Neal's shoulder when he slouched over. Hannah and Jon both jumped, but Peter told them to sit down. "He doesn't drink much anymore, so it's probably pretty easy to get him drunk and I think he is." He'd never seen Neal drunk, but the way Neal was slurring his speech kind of implied it. "I think I'm going to put him to bed."

"I'm okay," Neal mumbled, leaning into Peter. "Just talking to your parents."

Peter chuckled. "Do you realize how drunk you look? Moz would laugh at you."

Neal shrugged, throwing his hands up. "I don't feel drunk." He hiccupped and Peter shook his head. He grabbed the fedora from the table and slipped it onto Neal's head, attempting to tame his mess of hair. Peter stared at him, awed. He definitely thought the fedora was better on Neal than it was on him. "Mm, Peter," he moaned, rubbing his face against Peter's cheek. "Love you."

"Buddy, if you don't get up to bed, I'm going to send a picture to Mozzie." Neal kissed his cheek, the stubble on his chin scratching Peter's skin. Peter pulled his phone out. "I'm serious. I'll send one to Moz."

"Cheese!" Neal said, grinning. When Peter made no move to take the picture, Neal pouted. "Aren't you going to take one?" Peter rolled his eyes and unlocked his phone, going to the camera. He held it up in front of them, spun the view on the screen so they could see themselves, and laughed at the silly faces Neal was making. Peter snapped a few pictures, Neal kissing his cheek in at least three of them.

Peter sent one of the many silly pictures he'd taken to Mozzie and El, just for the hell of it. "You're going to be pissed at me tomorrow when you've got one hell of a hangover and text messages filled with 'lol' after 'lol.'"

Neal shrugged, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Bed now?"

"Night mom, dad," Peter said, nodding at them.

They both said good night while Peter practically pushed Neal to the stairs. Once they stood at the bottom of the stairway, Neal looked up in awe. "Whoa," he muttered, stumbling backwards. "That's a lot of steps."

"Want me to carry you, sweetheart?" Neal grinned at him and Peter adjusted them both so he could carry Neal without too much strain. Neal wrapped his arms around Peter's neck, kissing his temple. Peter had one arm under both of Neal's legs and the other behind his back. "You're lucky I love you," he teased.

Neal giggled, hiccupping. "Yes, I am," he admitted drunkenly.

He took Neal up the two flights of stairs and then into their bedroom, laying him down gently. "I'm going to need you to help me get you into comfy clothes, okay?" Neal jumped up off the bed, wobbling at first, his whole world spinning. Before Peter even had the opportunity to laugh, Neal tossed the fedora onto the bed and was stripping his sweater off, undoing his belt and tossing it across the room, then unbuttoning his jeans, throwing them down to his ankles. "That's the fastest I've seen you strip," Peter said, raising an eyebrow. He grabbed Neal's sweatpants and went for a lighter sweater, but Neal pulled him away from the suitcases. "Deciding you'll freeze tonight and go shirtless?" he teased.

"Mhm," Neal said, nodding. Peter hadn't been serious. He knew how easily Neal was chilled. "Help me with your—my—somebody's pants." Neal was confusing himself.

Peter did just that, getting on one knee to hold the pants out for Neal to step into. He had to brace himself against the wall so he didn't fall down and then Peter rose to his full height, kissing Neal's forehead. "All right, you," he said, smiling. "Bedtime, sweetheart." He took Neal's hand, leading him to the bed without a fight. As soon as Neal was under the blanket, he was totally out. Peter chuckled, sliding in beside him. He shifted Neal around a bit, pulling him onto his chest, rubbing his back gently. He kissed Neal's hair. "Good night and Merry Christmas, Neal," he whispered.


	18. Chapter 18

A phone on the nightstand was buzzing and ringing simultaneously. Neal groaned. His head was pounding and he really didn't want to open his eyes or move. "Peter," he called out. "Peter, get the phone. Please." He opened his eyes a little and grabbed the phone, answering.

"_Suit, I found Adler like you wanted me to. He's still in New York, so Neal's safe._"

Neal rubbed his eyes. He didn't realize the phone was Peter's. "Moz?"

There was absolute silence on the other end. "_Oh, uh. Hi, Neal._"

Peter walked into the room then and Neal looked at him like Peter had done the worst thing possible. He hung up on Mozzie and tossed the phone across the bed. "You told Mozzie?" Peter didn't even reach for the phone. He moved to seat himself close to Neal.

"I told him enough to have him look into this, Neal. He doesn't know everything." Neal laid back down, pulling the blanket up as far as it would go with Peter sitting on it and pulled the pillow over the back of his head. "Neal, I have him keeping tabs on Adler's movements. He thinks Adler abused you. That's all."

Neal scoffed from beneath the pillow. "You say that like it makes everything better."

Peter leaned over him, kissing his back. "After we saw one of his guys on our way here, I made sure someone had eyes on him, Neal. I would never tell anyone the whole story. I promised you that. It's your story, not mine." Neal didn't reply. He just laid there, wishing his headache would go away. "Neal, I'm not sorry for this," Peter whispered. "I don't want him to hurt you again."

"Sure, okay."

Peter sighed, rubbing his back. He had a feeling Neal was going to hold this against him—and hadn't been disappointed by that feeling. He was surprised later that night when he was watching a game with his dad and Neal came downstairs after putting Nicky to bed. The two of them hadn't spoken since that morning and he was grateful that Neal didn't look really angry. The surprise though was Neal sitting down beside him. He would've thought Neal wouldn't want to be around him after ignoring him for a good part of the day. "Hey," Peter whispered, tentatively touching Neal's hand.

Neal's fingers curled around his slowly and he looked at Peter, but didn't say anything. Peter kept his eyes on Neal, who eventually pulled his legs up onto the couch and curled against Peter's side. Jon watched them and had a feeling something was going on between the two, but figured it was best that he stay out of it unless he needed to be involved. He'd noticed the distance Neal put between them at dinner. They usually sat right on top of each other, but they spread out—well, Neal shifted his seat a little.

When the game was halfway over, Jon realized Neal's head was now in Peter's lap and he was asleep. Peter stroked his hair slowly, something Jon smiled at because it was the same kind of gesture he and Hannah had at their age. He would be watching a game, same as Peter, and Hannah would stay close just to enjoy his presence. "You boys all right?" he asked quietly.

Peter's hand paused in Neal's hair. "We aren't arguing, if that's what you're asking. He's upset with me, but we…we should be fine." Jon's brows furrowed at that. Peter knew he couldn't tell his father everything. Father or not, the secret was still Neal's and he wouldn't betray Neal's trust any more than he already had. "It's something personal. Don't worry, dad," he said with a smile.

Jon nodded slowly, knowing that meant this was none of his business. "I'd just hate to see you two split up. He's a good kid, Peter." Jon winced. He knew they were both in their thirties, but he couldn't stop calling them boys or kids.

"Good is an understatement," Peter said, looking at Neal adoringly. "He's perfect, dad, and I can't wait for the day when I can marry him."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Peter, I know there aren't many states that recognize it, but you—"

Peter shook his head, knowing what his father was getting at. "I don't want to marry him just anywhere, dad. I want it to be in New York. That's our home." Jon nodded, understanding Peter's reasoning. "I feel like it'll happen someday. I just hope we stay together that long." Peter went back to stroking Neal's hair. "He's the one. I know he's the first man I've been with, but he's the one."

Jon smiled at him. "I understand, son. That's exactly what I thought when I met your mother. She was the first and last person I was with." That gave Peter hope for his relationship with Neal—assuming he didn't push Neal away unintentionally. His parents were still together after all this time and his sister is several years older than him. "I think you'll know when the one you're with is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. If you've found that in Neal, then you'll last. I've never known you to let something you want pass you by. Your mother and I used to fight a lot, Peter, before you were born." Peter kept looking at Neal. "We made it through the dark times in our relationship and have grown closer because of it. I think the same can be said about you and Neal. He'll fight to be with you as much as you will for him and that's what you deserve, son—someone who will fight for you and your relationship no matter what."

Peter nodded. "I'm not going to let him go very easily, that's certain," he said, laughing quietly. "He's had a really hard time with relationships and I think he's just waiting for me to become one of them."

"Then don't give him reason to," Jon said. "You're better than the man he spoke about last night, Peter. He knows that as well as I do." Jon got up, deciding to get a beer before the game came back on. "Don't worry too much though. I've learned that when someone trusts you enough to tell you all of their flaws, they won't let you go easily either." He patted Peter's shoulder as he headed out into the kitchen, leaving Peter to his thoughts.

He smiled when Neal readjusted himself in his sleep, Neal's hand resting on his thigh. Despite their problems, their little arguments, he knew they'd be okay. It might not be tomorrow or the day after that, but they'd work it out. He slid his arm over Neal, resting his hand atop Neal's. "We'll be all right," he whispered, rubbing Neal's knuckles.

•◊•

Over the next few days, the rift between Peter and Neal became more noticeable to everyone around them. Neal chose not to talk much, spending more time with Nicky than before. He was sleeping in Nicky's room for the most part and they'd only had sex once since Mozzie's phone call, but Neal initiated it. Even then, they still hadn't talked a whole lot.

They'd packed everything up, said goodbye to the family, and were now on their way home. Neal was driving, suggested by Peter in an attempt to make up for some of the tension. Nicky was listening to his music in his headphones and Neal played the car music loud enough to avoid any conversation.

Peter kept trying to think of something to say to him that wouldn't irritate him further, but he came up blank. He felt that maybe the radio silence between them was causing a bigger problem. He breathed deeply for a moment, then reached out and turned the music down. "Hey, I was—"

"Are we ever going to talk about this?" Neal sat back in his seat, going back to ignoring Peter, especially since the music was barely audible. "I know you're mad at me, but I want to fix this. I want us to be close again."

Neal's hands tightened on the wheel. "Well, maybe you should have thought about that when you decided going around, telling everyone I was raped was okay."

"I never said you were… That's not the point. Neal, I didn't make it too personal. I know Mozzie has street contacts and I wanted his help." Neal seemed to get even more agitated, if that was possible. "I'm trying to protect you. I asked for help because I can't always know when something's going to happen."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Neal said quietly, glancing in the mirrors and flipping his turning signal on to merge into the right lane for the turnoff.

Peter frowned, unable to look away from Neal. "If we don't talk, we're going to fall apart."

"I can't talk to you because I don't know what'll stay between us and what won't. I told you something that nobody else should know, Peter, and you brought people into it. Yeah, I told the judge about it, but he's going to help me lock Adler up." Peter tried to interject something. "Peter, why do you think my relationships never last?"

Peter paused. "I thought it was because you didn't find who you were looking for."

Neal shook his head. "No, it was because I couldn't even begin to think about how my life would change if I brought somebody into my living hell. I took you back twenty years in my life and you're flippantly asking around about Adler, giving explanations for why you need to know where he is and what he's up to."

"That isn't true," Peter said adamantly. "I know it hurt you to tell me. Why would I ever want you to hurt like that again? If Adler's trying to find you, I want to be one step ahead of him. I want to beat the living hell out of him until he's on the brink of death and make him look you in the eyes while I do it. You're stronger than you were because you finally let someone in, Neal. You let me in and I'm trying to help."

"Adler's screwing me at every turn, Peter. Sending Craig, having my mom send me letters, threatening me with Nicky, sending his minions out to find us—it's those things that bother me the most. He's trying to slowly pick me apart piece by piece until there's nothing left but that little boy's fear." Peter was silent, his heart aching. He didn't want Neal to get hurt, but he'd hurt him himself. "I want to be able to live my life without looking over my shoulder, wondering if that bastard is going to come after me. I've lived in my fear for twenty years." He glanced over his shoulder really quick and Nicky was still not paying attention to them. He was playing on his DS now. "I never wanted anyone to suffer with me. It was difficult to keep Nick and Moz so close because I couldn't tell them without worrying that I'd be left alone."

Peter nodded. "I understand what you're saying, Neal. I shouldn't have crossed those lines. I shouldn't have gone behind your back." Neal was nodding. "I'm sorry if I lost all of your trust, Neal. I'll do anything I can to earn it back."

"I still trust you," Neal said with a sigh. "I still love you, too. I'm only upset because I wish you'd asked me if it was okay before you started asking around for help."

"If I promise I'll do that from now on, can we have a date night tonight?" Neal's eyebrow rose in curiosity. "After Nick goes to bed, I want to stay up with you. I'll get us some popcorn and we'll watch some sappy romance movie together and try to compare ourselves to the couple on the television."

Neal seemed to consider it. "Sure. As long as it's not _Romeo and Juliet_ we're fine." Peter chuckled reaching over to rub Neal's arm, telling him that was a deal.

•◊•

After disposing the condom, Neal licked Peter's stomach, cleaning himself off of his lover. They'd just finished making love after watching _Titanic._ Peter breathed heavily, waiting for Neal to come back up to him for a kiss. The younger man straddled him tonight, bouncing on top as quickly or as slowly as he felt like going, a different position than they'd used before, and Peter loved it. Watching the movie made him realize that his and Neal's relationship was built upon hopelessness, but he'd given Neal hope by coming into his life, accepting him for all that he is, and promising that he'd stay. As soon as the credits were rolling, he'd tackled Neal onto his back and that's how they got to where they were now.

Peter was chuckling as he waited. "Do you realize how ridiculous you look with that hat on?" He sighed contentedly. The fedora he'd gotten from his parents, he'd passed on to Neal. For some odd reason, he'd thrown it on before jumping on top of Peter. "I'm glad we're okay," Peter whispered, closing his eyes. Neal stretched out on top of him, holding himself up long enough to kiss Peter's eyelids, nose, and lips.

Peter opened his eyes to see Neal smiling at him. "Me, too."

"What do you say about me turning you onto your back to suck at your neck until you've got a hickey that'll never go away?"

Neal shrugged. "I suppose that's okay with me."

Peter laughed lightly, twisting them. "I'm glad to hear that." He was above Neal, staring down into his beautiful blue eyes. He leaned closer, kissing Neal's lips long enough to slide his tongue into Neal's mouth and taste Neal's come that had been licked off of Peter not all that long ago, before trailing kisses down the side of his face, to his jaw, and then to his neck. He found Neal's pulse and licked the skin, tasting the saltiness of Neal's sweat. He pulled away and blew a small puff of air against his skin. Neal shivered, moaning quietly. Peter grinned before leaning down to slowly suck at Neal's neck, his hands weaving through Neal's unruly hair. Neal kept the hat on, unwilling to take it off just yet and Peter decided he'd make do with what Neal was giving him—a hell of a lot, considering.

Just then, three knocks hit the door methodically. Neal gasped, pushing Peter off of him just as the door opened. Fortunately, they were still under the blanket. Peter hovered over Neal in case someone was breaking in, but the lights turned up a bit. "You know it's kind of rude to—" Mozzie caught sight of the couple in bed and was instantly mortified. "I'm so sorry."

"Uh, Moz, let us get dressed really quick. Go in the hall." Mozzie did that without question. Neal's head hit the pillow a second later. "God damn it."

Peter kissed him. "Hey, it's all right."

They got off of the bed, wincing at the creaks it made as they did so. "Where's my underwear?" Neal asked, looking around.

"Got it. You have mine?" Neal picked Peter's briefs off of the floor and tossed them over to him when Peter tossed his boxers as well. Neal slipped into his boxers, sweatpants, and one of Peter's oversized shirts, whereas Peter put on his pajama pants and a robe. "You and that damn hat. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were infatuated with it," he teased. "All right. We're dressed," Peter called out, loud enough for Mozzie to hear him.

Mozzie tentatively pushed the door open, glancing in their direction before pushing the door all the way open. He couldn't meet Neal's eyes, so he just looked anywhere but at him. "I apologize for interrupting your…copulation. I hope the bed springs still work."

Neal scoffed, walking away to head over to the kitchen area. He poured himself a glass of apple juice, turning to them for a second to silently ask if they wanted any. Mozzie nodded and Peter shook his head. "You could just call it sex, Moz. Fortunately for you, we were pretty much done anyway."

"That's not what it looked like…" Neal paused, glancing over at him. "Neal, I've walked in on you before, so…"

"And you think you'd learn by now that most people have sex in the middle of the night," Neal muttered. "_That_ is far from what we were doing." Peter was absolutely confused and Neal shook his head. "Peter's got more…finesse."

Peter's face heated up when Neal threw a grin at him over his shoulder. "I'm really not comfortable talking about this because I can't look at you guys without seeing you two…there…in bed. Together."

The apple juice was going back into the refrigerator and Neal decided to make a smart remark while wetting a washcloth he'd found in a drawer. "You know, adults do this dance to show each other how much they love the other person. It's a really intricate process, assuming you're with the right—"

"I get it. I get it. Neal, shut up." Neal chuckled, heading back over to them, handing a glass to Mozzie. He rubbed the washcloth over his face and neck before handing it to Peter so he could do the same. Mozzie tried not to watch, feeling awkward watching the exchange and, being the mysophobic man that he is, the fact that Peter and Neal just shared a washcloth with their sweat made him fidgety. "I didn't come over to be a cock-block." The couple realized Mozzie had a folder in his hands, so they gave him a curious look. "Neal, your mom is in the hospital."

Nothing was said for at least five minutes. Neal had to step away, one hand on his hip as he tried to keep from dumping the glass of apple juice in his other hand. "Why should I care?" he finally said. It sounded bitter, but that's how he felt about his mom. She'd never been there for him, so he felt no desire to be there for her, even if he should be the bigger person of the two of them.

"She asked for you and—asshole that you are—your phone number is somehow _my_ phone number, so I got the call." Neal was confused by that. He never gave the hospital a number for his mother to contact him by, not even a house phone or fake number. "Why are you looking at me like I just gave birth to a barrel of watermelons?"

Neal made a disgusted face for a split second. "Moz, they never asked me for contact information."

In the pause they all took, a phone started buzzing on the dresser top. Neal turned, afraid to get it. Peter moved for it, looking at the number. "It's a blocked call." He answered it and held the phone up to this ear, choosing not to speak.

"_Hello, Neal._"

"Afraid to inform you that this isn't Neal, Adler," Peter hissed. Neal's eyes widened and he stepped closer to Peter. Peter rested a hand on Neal's chest, looking him in the eyes.

"_Put him on. He and I need to have a heart to heart._"

Peter was glaring intensely, setting the phone down and putting it on speaker. He nodded at Neal. "I'm here," Neal said quietly.

Adler chuckled through the phone, a sound that made Neal's skin crawl. He shuddered and Peter was there, wrapping his arms around him. Peter would protect him—he knew that. "_Hello, my darling Neal. I was disappointed that our last meeting had to be postponed. Apparently, my rescheduled meeting didn't get to you, since you left town._"

"Peter should have killed your man," Neal hissed. "Stalking my boyfriend and son isn't exactly how I imagined you'd try to play with me."

Peter was cringing as each word was passed between Neal and Adler. "_Play, indeed. I want to hear you scream, Neal. Scream for help, beg for mercy. I want to see you break underneath me._" Neal had to swallow back bile, his stomach lurching. "_You're good at that, aren't you?_"

Mozzie was looking at the phone in horror. "I want you to remember that I have powerful friends, you fucker," he growled. "You aren't getting what you want."

"_Well, I hope you're prepared to have a much closer, more personal bond with your son since I'm going to tear his—_"

Neal grabbed the phone and threw it. Fortunately, it was his, so he hadn't just broken Peter's phone. He was enraged, his heart beating uncontrollably. "God damn it!" he cried, throwing his hands in front of him to hold himself up on the table. Peter was there, hands on Neal's chest and back. "He's… He's fucking insane. _I'm_ fucking insane."

Peter kissed his neck, breathing unevenly. He was infuriated as well. "You aren't," he said firmly. "We're going to find him and bring him down before he can hurt you again—or Nicky." Neal broke down, turning to bury his face in Peter's chest so he could muffle his sobs. "I promise, Neal," Peter whispered, his arms circled around Neal, his chin resting on Neal's head. His heart ached and he himself on the brink of tears. He kissed Neal's hair, closing his eyes. He needed to keep this promise.


	19. Chapter 19

Peter and Neal's vacation came to an end shortly after New Year's Day. Nicky was back and school and they were back in the bureau. Mozzie was hanging around Ascension to make sure Adler didn't show up. He was pretty good at pretending to be a janitor, so he hung around quite a bit. He had Neal on speed dial in case Adler _did_ show, but that didn't make Neal any less nervous. It's been a little over two weeks since Adler's call and he was just waiting for something to happen.

Peter was trying to distract Neal a bit, so they were working on a case together in his office. "It's obviously a forgery," Neal said, leaning back from the close proximity he had with the document. Peter raised an eyebrow. They were both aware that three teams couldn't find anything off about the document, but it took less than ten minutes for Neal to. "According to the file, Mister Gratin is right-handed. Now, correct me if I'm wrong." He turned the document for Peter to look at it with him. "Left-handed people smudge their signatures. This is smudged."

"Wow. I can't believe no one else noticed that." He glanced at Neal, watching him stare at the case file attentively. "Any idea who might've authorized this then?"

Neal shook his head. "We need a list of every employee working for the company, then we'll see how many are lefties and go from there."

There was a brief pause that made Neal look up. "You're thinking it was an inside job?"

"Yeah. Gratin's dead, Peter. This document was signed the same day he died." He pulled something out of the folder and observed it quickly. "Here, look." He showed Peter the death certificate they'd been granted access to upon receiving a reported suicide of the corporate psychologist.

"Saturday morning, eleven-fifty-nine. What's so special about that?"

"Now, look at the time the document was signed."

Neal pointed it out to him and Peter laughed lightly. "One-thirty in the afternoon. He was dead less than six hours and almost all of his information, including personal files from his sessions, goes missing." Neal nodded and Peter watched him. "So, this may have been a homicide rather than a suicide is what you're telling me?"

"I'd call it murder. All of the wounds plus the gunshot aimed into his mouth made it appear as though he'd killed himself, but I think someone went into his home and murdered him, someone who might've told him things that implicated themselves somehow. And knowing that means—"

"—they were able to clear the office with passcodes and avoid security cameras." Peter smacked the desk, smiling at Neal. "Well, I'd say that's enough for a warrant. Want to go look them over?"

Neal shrugged. "It's not like we have anything else to do," he teased. He stood up, putting the documents back into the folder Peter pushed in his direction once he'd entered the office. "The report said his office was a disaster, filing cabinets knocked over, papers littering the floor. Someone was there for something specific."

Peter watched him, loved how dedicated and determined he was, but saw the underlying anxiousness in the way his lips trembled. It was a very brief expression, but Peter didn't fail to notice it. "How are you holding up?" he asked. Each time he noticed some flicker of fear or anxiety cross Neal's face, he'd worry.

"I'm okay. I've got you," he replied with a smile. Peter knew he was forcing the smile, but he didn't want to make Neal feel worse, so he left it alone. Neal would talk to him if he needed to. He's been very good about doing that, opening up to Peter, since Adler's call.

Peter stood up and walked around the desk, kissing Neal's temple quickly before straightening up. "You'll always have me." Neal's fingers caressed Peter's for a brief moment and then they were heading out, grabbing their jackets as they did so. "Diana, get me a warrant to search Gregenco. Neal and I are going down there now as a preliminary observation. We may be onto something." She nodded at him, getting on the phone before they'd even put their jackets on. They ran out together so often that Peter left his jacket in the bullpen with Neal now. They took the elevator down to the ground floor and headed over to the lot where Peter parked the _Taurus._ As soon as they were inside, Peter turned the heat on and Neal was checking his phone. "Anything from Moz?"

Neal shook his head. "And that's a good thing for once."

Peter started up the car and headed towards Gregenco, located in upper Manhattan. They were quiet on the way there, Neal observing the general area and occasionally giving Peter some of the information he was reading in the case file he brought with him. When they arrived, they parked across the street and waited. "All right. We need to get inside and see if we can get clearance to the fifty-third floor without the warrant. If they don't let us up, we'll have to wait."

Neal nodded. "Let's give it a shot." They got out of the car and crossed the street, entering the corporate building. There was a receptionist desk to the left, the help desk to the right, and straight ahead were the elevators. "Even if we don't get clearance, it's not like we can sneak up," Neal said, disappointed.

Peter chuckled, smirking at him. "You would definitely be able to pull off the whole criminal persona with that frame of mind."

"Good thing I'm on your side then," he teased.

The receptionist looked very jittery as they neared the desk and Peter stepped ahead of Neal, flashing his badge. Neal figured he'd hold more authority than a probationary agent's badge would. "Special Agent Peter Burke," he said by way of introduction. "I'm here to talk to the advisor of the fifty-third floor. I believe her name was Jane Sullivan."

Neal smiled from behind him. He'd given Peter a 'briefing' of the corporation in the car. "Mrs. Sullivan isn't in right now, but we might be able to schedule a meeting for another time. I can pull her calendar up to see when she's free if you'd like."

That wasn't right. They both knew Sullivan was in the office. Hughes called to talk to her earlier. Peter glanced over his shoulder to give Neal a look. Something was definitely going on behind the scenes. "By all means, set up a meet."

"Will you both be attending the meet or just you, Agent Burke?"

Peter didn't want to go in alone. If this woman murdered Gratin, he'd want Neal as immediate backup. "I'll bring my probationary agent, Neal Caffrey." Neal got a slight thrill out of Peter calling him his probationary agent. Everyone knew he was Hughes' probie, but Peter seemed to have taken over and no one commented on it.

The receptionist nodded. "How does Friday afternoon sound, Agent Burke?"

Neal sighed internally. Well, they'd be skipping out on lunch again in a couple of days. "Sounds fine." He slipped a card out of his jacket and set it on the desk. "This is my contact information should anyone need to get in touch with me beforehand."

She told them to have a nice day and dismissed them. As they were walking out, Neal grabbed Peter's shoulder. He gave the younger man a questioning look. "The cameras," he said, nodding up at them. "They aren't aimed at anything specific. One is on the entranceway, but the other three are focused on walls or floors. The entranceway camera is the only one that's on."

"Odd, considering this is such a large and important building. Makes you wonder how their security is on each floor." Neal grinned at him. They'd be checking out as much as they could tomorrow. It was a thrill to be in the field with Peter as long as he wasn't getting shot at.

Neal's watch beeped and he looked down at it. "Shit. It's two-twenty, Peter." They left the building and went to the car, hopping in. They had ten minutes to get to Nicky's school to pick him and Moz up—though Moz needed to get into the car without being seen. They pulled up in front of the school. Neal's lips parted when he heard police sirens nearby. He pulled his phone out and didn't realize he'd gotten a phone call and a message. He dropped the phone and threw the car door open.

"Neal?" Peter was getting out quickly, chasing after Neal as the younger man darted into the school. They paused upon entering and Neal's breathing was labored. Peter abruptly stopped beside him. There was blood on the floor. Neal's eyes scanned the area quickly and Moz came out of the broom closet.

"Mozzie, what the hell happened?" Neal cried, walking over to him.

"Adler came in." Neal's heart stopped. "Neal, he shot several teachers trying to find him." That explained the blood. His vision became tunneled as he stared at the pools of blood. He already knew, judging by Mozzie's painful tone, what happened. "He has Nicky."

•◊•

As soon as Neal got into the apartment, he froze in the doorway, Moz and Peter nearly bumping into him. "He was here," Neal whispered. He went inside and immediately went into Nicky's room, finding a disaster like he'd expected. He was trying to find blood or something that might tell him whether or not Adler planned on hurting Nicky right now.

"Neal." Peter's voice sounded strangled, which made Neal dart back into the other room. He hadn't been paying attention to his bedroom area until now. Their bed was practically destroyed and would be totally unusable and a lot of Neal's artworks were ripped to shreds on the floor. His sketchbook had been tampered with and he immediately grabbed it. He flipped through the pages, finding his name scratched on page upon page—in dark red and black—and then he found the sketch he'd drawn of Peter. There was red on it.

Neal's hands shook and the sketchbook eventually fell out of his hands. His head and heart were pounding. He looked around at the disaster Adler left in his wake. Adler was out to destroy him, to absolutely break him beyond repair, and he was starting with the people Neal loved most. "Neal, sweetheart—"

He started walking away from the bedroom area and Peter stopped talking. He paused in front of the table, looking at pictures Nicky drew for him on the wall ahead of him. His lips trembled as he looked over all of the drawings of the two of them, holding hands and happy. The sun was always shining, the grass as green as could be, and the sky as blue as his and his son's eyes. In one moment, all of that was snatched away from him. He could see Nicky's paled face, tears streaming down his face, screaming for him.

He snarled and flipped the table over. It didn't end there, he grabbed the chairs and threw them towards the balcony. Tears were streaming down his face as he kept seeing his son in pain, pain that he himself had gone through because Adler was a sick bastard—still is a sick bastard. He couldn't scream profanities, he couldn't talk. He wanted desperately to scream just to get _something_ out of his system, but his throat felt constricted. "Peter, I can't stop him." He barely felt Moz trying to grab his arms and he shoved him off without a problem.

Neal started heading to the balcony. He'd shattered the glass doors and was prepared to throw everything over the side just to get them out of his sight. Everything he looked at brought some memory of Nicky back and it was ripping his heart open. But then strong arms wrapped around him, held him tightly. "Neal." Peter's voice was echoing in his head. "Sweetheart, please."

As if on cue, Neal's legs gave out and he collapsed in Peter's arms, the fight drained out of him. Peter sat them both down on the balcony, holding Neal close. "I failed," he said hoarsely. "I failed him. Adler's going to rape him like he raped me and I can't do anything to stop it."

It was the first time he'd said it aloud in front of Mozzie. If there was ever a shadow of a doubt about the situation, it was now cleared up. "Calm down, Neal. You need to calm down if we're going to find him soon. Okay?"

Neal shut his eyes tightly, his hands gripping Peter's above his chest. "If he doesn't make it out of this," Neal said tightly, swallowing hard, "I don't want to live to see it. I want my life to end if his does, Peter."

•◊•

Neal was furious with Peter. He should be out there looking for his son, but Peter put him in solitary confinement. The rational part of him understood why Peter did it, but he wanted to be out there with him. Mozzie, Diana, Jones… Essentially, anyone working for Peter was probably on this. This was an abduction that could turn into a domestic case and Neal thought that was a word too innocent to use under these circumstances.

If he remembered things correctly, he's been in this cell for four hours. He can't figure out how Peter drugged him, but it'd been done. He knew it was Peter. He remembered seeing the pain, hearing the, "I'm so sorry, but I'm doing this for your own good," but felt absolutely ill at ease. Peter took him out of this, knowing exactly what it was doing to him.

He knew he said the wrong thing once it was out of his mouth. If he'd just calmed down, he could be out there scouring the streets for his son. Of course, he had to jump the gun without thinking and tell Peter, of all people, that he'd kill himself if Adler killed Nicky. He realized how selfish that was of him, but it hurt to think he'd have to bury his baby. He couldn't go through that. He couldn't stand over his son's casket. He couldn't stand in front of the headstone, looking at how short Nicky's life was. He couldn't live with himself for failing the one person he'd promised he'd always protect.

Those thoughts alone brought another wave of sadness, anxiety, and anger over him. He pulled his legs up onto the bed, wrapping his arms around them. He leaned forward to sob into his knees, his heart beating too quickly.

The door unlocked and he didn't have it in him to lift his head when the door opened, closed, and was locked. He kept sobbing, but got quieter. "Neal," Peter said tentatively. He sat down beside his lover, resting a hand on his back. "Neal, look at me."

"Why did you put me here? I'm not a criminal. I didn't do anything wrong," he said loudly, his voice cracking.

Peter visibly flinched. "I told them you didn't commit a crime. This is to keep you safe, sweetheart. I know you resent me for it, but I…I'm too selfish to let you out. I want to, but I don't trust your judgment right now."

Neal lifted his head then, his eyes bloodshot. "I need to be out there with you. I need to be looking for him. I can practically hear him screaming for me to help him, Peter, and I _need_ to find him myself."

"I have several teams searching for him, Neal. We're going to find him." He rubbed Neal's back even as the younger man glared at him. "I love you and I'm doing everything that I can. I put out alerts, got NYPD involved, and sent as many agents as I could."

"Yet you're here with me," he said miserably. "You're the best agent there is and you're not out there. He's going to _die._ I'm never going to see my son again."

Peter was on the brink of crying along with Neal. "Don't say things like that."

"It's true, Peter!" he screamed. "Adler's going to kill him. He won't spare Nicky. He wants me. He'll just use Nicky to lure me out and then he'll kill him. Peter, it's too late. I failed my son, I failed myself. He trusted me to protect him and I couldn't—"

"_This_ is why you're here, Neal. Can you hear yourself? I've only heard you consider suicide once or twice before, but those statements were nothing in comparison to what you said to me a few hours ago." Peter was crying, his hand scrunching up the back of Neal's shirt. "I had to drug you because you pulled your gun on _yourself_ and then you tried to take mine when I stopped you. How would killing yourself help Nick? He's going to make it, Neal. You need to tell yourself that and believe it."

Neal gritted his teeth. "Put yourself in my position. Think about losing someone you _made._ He's part of me, Peter, and I can't live without him. He'll take part of me with him and even you won't be able to salvage what's left of the disaster you call your lover."

Peter let go of Neal's shirt and kissed Neal's temple. "I love you. I'll come back if I hear anything else."

"Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me here," he pleaded. Peter got up off of the bed and Neal tried to pull him back down. He'd moved too far and Neal had to jump up and run to him. "Peter, please!"

He turned to look at Neal, tears sliding down his face. "I can't let you out of here. I'm going to go back out there and find _our_ son, Neal."

Neal's heart broke when he said that. He should have realized that Peter would feel the same way he did. Peter and Nicky were practically father and son as it was and he couldn't see himself leaving Peter at any point in time. Peter would be Nicky's other father and he knew it, but he'd never said that specifically to Neal. It was a silent commitment he made when he fell in love with Neal because Nicky is a major part of him. "Peter, please, let me come with you."

Peter lifted his hand to stroke Neal's hair out of his face. "No, Neal. You're staying here until this is all over. When I have Nicky safe and sound, you'll be released. Until then, I can't take any chances."

Neal was frozen in place, watching the man he loved with all of his heart and soul walk out on him, locking him up in this box. Peter regretted it, Neal realized, but that didn't mean he wouldn't see this through.

He breathed shakily, turning back to the room. He ran his fingers through his hair and went to the window with bars across it. He looked out at the gate, watching Peter drive off. He gripped the bars and bowed his head forward, trying to relax. He trusted Peter, knew Peter would find Nicky and bring him home. He wallowed in self-pity for a few minutes, wishing he'd just kept Nicky out of harm's way. Sending him to school was such a stupid move and he knew it.

The sudden creaking in the room made him snap back to attention. It was then that he realized the window was taken out and replaced as an exit. Whoever had been in this room before obviously escaped and this had been their route. Curious, Neal pulled it back towards him. It popped out of the square opening perfectly and he gaped at the simplicity of this. He set the window down on the floor quietly and looked over the edge. The drop down wasn't bad at all. He wouldn't break any bones, that was certain.

He climbed into the opening without a problem and dropped down, an even easier task—or so he assumed. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he knew his ankle was sprained, crying out and falling to clutch at it. Getting out hadn't been too bad, with the exception of this inconvenient injury. However, he still had to make it through another obstacle. This, he knew was the hard part. Getting past the fence was going to be tricky. He peered around the corner. The fencing over there looked like it had been sheared, so he crept over there as quickly as he could while his eyes darted around the compound.

In a matter of minutes, he'd escaped the cell and the compound. He knew exactly where he was and knew exactly where to go to draw Adler out. He ran—or rather limped—as fast as he could with his sprained ankle. _He_ would save his son, Peter's best intentions for his safety be damned.


	20. Chapter 20

Peter was in lower Manhattan. He was concerned about Neal, too concerned to go much further than he already had. It would be a twenty minute drive back to the confinement area. "Diana, do you have anything for me yet?" he asked, holding his phone to his ear.

There was wind blowing harshly behind her as she answered. "_No, Boss. We're still looking, going from door to door like you asked._"

He mentally cursed. It'd been almost six hours now. These first twenty-four hours were critical in kidnappings and he had no idea where to even start looking. "All right. Thanks, Diana." He hung up and put his phone back in his jacket. He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes. He kept seeing Neal's tear-stained face, tears still streaming down his face, begging him not to leave him in that cell. He wanted so desperately to let him out of there, but he knew he couldn't keep an eye on Neal, nor could he really stop him from carrying a gun. He talked to Reese an hour ago and updated him on Neal's situation, explaining the whole thing. That was when Reese had called in extra forces, much to Peter's relief. They had plenty of people scouring Manhattan for Nicky. It was just a matter of finding him before Adler could hurt him—assuming he hadn't already. He was heading over to an NYPD squad when his phone buzzed. He immediately pulled it out and saw that it was the confinement calling. "Agent Burke," he said upon answering.

There was a brief pause, but he could hear breathing on the other end. "_Agent Caffrey escaped, sir._"

His eyes widened. There was no way he could have gotten out of there. "What the hell do you mean he _escaped?_"

"_The window was pulled out. We're trying to figure that out still, but we have no idea how long he's been out, sir. We only just discovered he was gone._"

He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. He didn't answer anymore, hanging up on the man who'd called. "Everything all right, sir?"

"Add finding Neal Caffrey to our to-do list—radio it in to all the teams. He's escaped his solitary confinement," Peter said, frustration coating every word. This wasn't going to end well and he knew it. Neal is in an emotional state that warranted being locked up for a while, and now he's roaming around. He could be anywhere by now and that worried him. Depending on how long he's been out, he could even be dead at this point. "Damn it, Neal," he hissed, heading back to his car. He'd drive back to see just how smart Neal was. He knew Neal hadn't planned an escape while he was there because Neal begged him fearfully to take him along. He should have known that Neal wouldn't just sit tight while his son was out there.

In the twenty minutes it would take for him to reach the prison that let Neal escape, he had time to think about how much he loved the stubborn man. Neal, hopefully, was still alive and searching for Nicky. If he was, Peter guessed that NYPD or one of the other several teams of agents would spot him and bring him in. In all honesty, he hoped they found Neal before Neal did something that would ruin him. Neal was determined to let Adler have him if it saved Nicky and Peter was aware of how terrified Neal was of that. Neal knew how terrified Peter was, too, for that matter.

When he'd arrived, one of the guards flagged him down and asked him to follow him. Peter did as he was asked, getting out of the car and walking along the fencing to where a group of guards stood. They were standing around something, Peter realized. As soon as they parted, he understood the message Neal left behind. Glancing down the hill, he saw a river bank with large stones. "He jumped from the window," a guard said, pointing to the cell window Neal jumped from. "We're not sure, but we think he may have injured himself after jumping."

Peter nodded. Neal was still alive though, and that relieved him. He was in no state to run, if they were all assuming correctly. But this was Neal's cry for help. He doubled back to the _Taurus_ quickly, not bothering to buckle himself in. He had limited time to find Neal.

•◊•

Neal stumbled into Stonewall, the gay bar he'd met Adler in initially. And as he was hoping, Adler was informed of where he was heading. He was hoping he could stall Adler long enough for Peter to get here and get his next message because he knew Peter would find the wall of stones he'd stacked up outside of the fence.

He limped towards a booth, dropping into it. He rolled his watch over on his left wrist, the band facing up. "Caffrey?"

Neal looked up to see a man he didn't recognize. "Yes," he said tentatively. The man slid in across from him, watching him. "Adler's man?"

He nodded. "Adler got the message. He's afraid to tell you he couldn't make the meeting personally, but he sent me to confirm that it was you." The man looked him over quickly. "You don't look armed. Now, what is it that you wanted to talk to Adler about?"

"Tell him I want to arrange a trade." The man looked taken aback. "Myself for my son," he continued. "And it needs to be in public."

"I'll see what I can do." Neal grit his teeth as the man made a phone call. He glanced at the bar, looking at drinks. After scanning the list, he glanced at the man on the phone. "Yes, I'll take him there. Washington Square in twenty minutes," he said as if Adler asked him to repeat the information and it was perfect for Neal. He looked up and met Neal's eyes. He nodded towards the bar, silently asking if he could get a drink. The man sighed and nodded. Neal pointed at him next and the man shrugged. He slid out of the booth and went up to the bar.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?"

Neal smiled at the man behind the counter. "A _Long Island ice tea_ for me and _Mr. Big_ for my buddy over there."

The man went to work, getting his drinks ready. Neal kept watching the entrance. Peter shouldn't get here anytime soon and he hoped none of his agents would either. It would blow everything he was working out. "Here you are," the man said after a few minutes, sliding the drinks across the counter. He nodded his thanks and lifted the glasses, taking them back to the booth. He set his down and then slid the other to sit in front of the man across from him.

The man put his phone down and took a swig of the drink. "So, Washington Park?" he asked, trying to make a small conversation. "That seems public enough."

"Finish your drink, kid. We're on a time limit."

Neal smiled as he drank from his glass. It tasted bitter in his mouth, and he really wasn't a fan of vodka on top of that. Peter would figure this out pretty quick, he hoped, and have backup on the way.

•◊•

Peter arrived at the Stonewall Inn with a few agents that had been nearby, claiming they hadn't seen Neal. He went inside without hesitation and scanned the immediate area. He couldn't see Neal in here, so why would he make a clue out to this place? Breathing heavily, he walked over to the counter. "Hey, there," the man said, smiling at him shyly. "What can I do for ya?"

"I'm here to ask about one of your patrons, actually." He pulled his phone out and flipped to an appropriate picture of Neal. "Have you seen this man?"

The man nodded. "You just missed him by about five minutes," he said apologetically. "He left with another man. It was a strange relationship, if you ask me." Peter's heart cringed at that, wondering what angle Neal was playing from. "He ordered them both drinks. Surprised me with the vodka. He looks more cultured, possibly a wine man."

Peter's eyes widened. "What did he order?" Neal had to be leaving clues behind. He knew Neal didn't like vodka, swore he'd never drink it again.

"Uh, the _Long Island ice tea_ and _Mr. Big._"

He spun to face the agents who'd followed him inside. "What's around the area?" He felt like he should have known the answer to that question, but he normally didn't hang out around here. The woman rattled off a list of gardens, cafes, and a park. "Washington?" he repeated after her. She nodded. He tried to think back to anything he'd learned on Washington, realizing that he'd lost a battle at Long Island. He didn't understand the _Mr. Big_ reference until the man said Washington preferred to be called 'Mister President.' "Get everyone to Washington Square _now!_" They raced out of the bar, and Peter muttered, "Neal, you brilliant bastard."

•◊•

Neal breathed heavily once they got out of the car the man had driven them in. Peter had to be at the bar by now, he thought. The two of them walked over to a bench and sat down. He couldn't help scanning the area, searching for Adler. His jaw ached with how hard he was gritting his teeth. He gripped his pant legs, bunching the fabric nervously. If things went wrong, Nicky might end up dead regardless. For Adler to arrange this, Nicky had to be alive and that gave him very miniscule relief.

"Daddy!" Neal spun around to see his son being held at the arm by none other than Vincent Adler.

He rose up from the bench, his breath catching. Nicky's face was bruised, his lips swollen. "What are your terms regarding your son?" Adler asked him, squeezing Nicky's arm, forcing the boy to cry out.

Neal tensed greatly, barely restraining his need to kill Adler. "I want him escorted home and then have him call this number." He held out a paper and Adler nodded.

"You walk to me when he walks away," Adler said slowly. He pulled a gun out of his jacket, smiling cruelly. "Make any move to run or snatch him up, he's dead."

Neal nodded, watching Nicky. Adler released him and shoved him forward a bit. Neal started heading towards Adler, nearing Nicky. He handed his son the paper with the phone number. It was Peter's cell phone. "Daddy—"

"It's okay, Nick," he whispered, messing with his hair. He knelt down and heard Adler load the gun. His eyes flickered to Adler and he growled, "I'm saying goodbye to him." Adler nodded, watching Neal closely as he kissed his son's forehead, whispering, "Peter's going to take care of everything, okay?" He wiped Nicky's tears away and forced a smile. "You'll be all right, I promise."

Nicky shook his head roughly. "I don't want to leave you, daddy."

"Baby, do this for me, please." His eyes pleaded with his son until Nicky finally gave in and nodded, taking the paper out of Neal's hand. "I love you, Nicky, so much."

"I love you, too."

Neal stood up and continued walking towards Adler. He made sure Nicky was with the other man before finally getting close to Adler. He reached out, stroking Neal's jaw. "It's been too long, again," he said quietly, his voice laced with poison.

"You hit my son," he said, his voice low and bitter. "Did you—?"

Adler shook his head. "I didn't fuck him, Neal. It was a hard thing not to do, but beating him seemed enough for me once I heard that you were willing to come to me." Neal swallowed back bile, only slightly relieved by the fact that Adler hadn't defiled all of his son's innocence. "Now, let's head back to my hotel, shall we? I had a room booked for the two of us."

Neal nodded slowly, allowing himself to be pulled along by Adler. They'd walked along a path for what felt like eternity to Neal and then Adler stopped, pulling Neal in for a bruising kiss. He groaned just to appease Adler. The longer they stayed here, the more likely it would be that Peter would rescue him. Adler ran his fingers through Neal's hair roughly, not even close to how Peter did it. He was taking advantage of the fact that they were alone, pretending to be a couple. He was purposely pulling Neal's hair, if only to hear him moan in pain. When Neal didn't give in, Adler pulled away and planted kisses along his neck—just like he'd done so many times.

They were practically alone, where no one could see them, so Adler took _further_ advantage of the situation, shoving Neal down to the ground. He cried out in pain as his knees hit the cement. This position was all too familiar to him and it made his stomach churn. He looked up at the older man, finding the exact same look of lust he'd seen twenty years ago. Adler wouldn't do anything sexual in public, but he'd make Neal remember and that was enough pain in itself.

Adler chuckled, gripping the front of his shirt. He pulled him up and took his hand roughly. Before they were out of the park, he heard the sirens. Adler paused, tensing. They were surrounded within moments of the sirens sounding. Adler stared ahead in disbelief. "I booked the police," Neal whispered, smirking.

The older man turned to face Neal, glaring at him. "You've gone too far." He grabbed Neal and threw him to the ground, then he held the gun up, arched closer to him, and held it to Neal's forehead. Neal's breath hitched as he stared helplessly at Adler. He could see the anger in the older man's eyes, knew he was contemplating a world full of pain for Neal. "I'm debating on whether or not I should kill you right now," he hissed. He deliberately paused to think it over, even as the officers told him to lower his weapon. As long as he had Neal at gunpoint, they weren't going to shoot. He'd become a hostage situation, much to his dismay. "Well, I could always have your body delivered to me after it's been prettied up at the morgue. I've never tried to have sex with a dead man." His finger moved to pull the trigger and Neal's eyes shut tightly, anticipating the quick death—the immediate 'lights out.'

He heard a gunshot and flinched. The coolness of the gun faded away from him, but he felt no pain. Adler was screaming in agony. Neal opened his eyes to see Adler writhing on the ground, holding his leg. "Neal!" Neal turned quickly to see Peter with his gun in hand. In that moment, the amount of relief that passed between them intensified tenfold when he saw Nicky being led to a cruiser. Nicky was safe. Peter holstered his gun and sprinted towards Neal. The younger man only made about two steps forward before strong, broad arms were wrapping around him, holding him tightly. "God damn you," he whispered, kissing Neal's neck. "You crazy son of a bitch."

Neal smiled, hearing the underlying affection in Peter's voice. Peter pulled away from him and grabbed his face, pulling him close for a rough, passionate kiss. All of Peter's worry, anger, fear, and hopelessness washed into Neal, where as he let go of his anger, fear, and anxiety. When they parted for breath, they panted, staring into each other's eyes. "Peter," he breathed, grinning.

Adler was screaming at Neal, promising him that this wasn't over, while being led into an ambulance where they'd wrap his leg and then probably escort him to a prison cell. "Don't you ever pull something like that again, Caffrey." His hands were tangled in Neal's hair, twisting, pulling, and caressing the strands.

"I knew you'd come for me, Peter." He laughed lightly. "You're my hero, and I put my faith in you. You didn't let me down."

"What if I had? What if I didn't get Nicky to safety, get to you in time?"

Neal shook his head. "Have faith, Peter." He rested his hands on Peter's chest. "If there's anyone who can find me, it's you."

Peter sighed, kissing Neal's nose. "I'm just lucky to have found your clues. Nice stone wall, by the way. It was very intricate. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, I noticed." Neal chuckled. "I'm glad you're safe, Neal—safe and alive." Neal didn't comment on that. He just hugged Peter again, holding onto him, breathing him in. Peter is the definition of home for him, and he was right where he belonged. "Let's get home. NYPD was escorting Nicky." In less than twelve hours, they'd found Nicky. They rescued their son, arrested Adler, and Neal survived. Home was where he needed to be—with his family.

•◊•

Peter helped Neal up the stairs. He realized Neal was limping on the way to the car, so he was helping him get to the apartment. Peter unlocked the door and pushed it open. Neal expected to see a disaster, but was shocked to see absolute perfection. It was practically the way it'd looked before. "Mon frère," Mozzie said upon walking out of Nicky's room. "Welcome home."

He had the feeling Moz stayed here to fix the apartment, probably got some of his 'friends' to help move everything in. "Glad to be home."

At the sound of Neal's voice, Nicky came bounding out of the bedroom, stopping to stare at his father. Neal's breath hitched when he saw how grateful Nicky was, how absolutely happy he looked. Nicky raced over to them, wrapping his arms around both of their waists. "You're both home," he whispered, nuzzling their hips with his face.

"We're home, buddy," Peter said, stroking Nicky's hair. Peter lifted Nicky into his arms, holding him close. Mozzie said something about starting dinner and Peter offered to help momentarily. He held Nicky with one arm and used his other hand to help Neal walk carefully over to their bed. Neal sat down and Peter set Nicky down beside him. He kissed Nicky's forehead, then shifted over to kiss Neal's lips. "I'm glad you're both all right." He saw the bruises on Nicky and knew Neal would get all of the information out of his son. Neal smiled lovingly at him and he headed over to help Mozzie with dinner.

Neal's eyes flickered over each and every bruise he could see, his heart clenching. "Hands up, kiddo," he whispered. Nicky did as he asked and Neal pulled his shirt up and over his head, gasping when he saw that the bruises continued. Neal's fingers ghosted over each bruise. He could see the hand imprints and it made him angry. "I'm not going to let him get off easy for this. I hope you know that."

"I knew you wouldn't," Nicky said with a small smile. "You're an FBI agent, daddy. You're going to take him down, right?"

Peter glanced over his shoulder to see Neal smile at Nicky. "Oh, yeah. Nobody gets away with hurting you." He helped Nicky put his shirt back on, frowning when Nicky cringed occasionally. "You're not going to school for a while, Nick. I…I'm going to try to get off from work."

Nicky shook his head. "No, daddy. You can go to work. Uncle Mozzie and June will take care of me." Neal's lips parted. "You like this job, dad. You're good at it. I don't want you to lose this one."

"I've told you repeatedly not to worry about my—"

"It makes you unhappy," Nicky said quickly. "You like working with Peter. Go to work with Peter. I'll be okay."

Neal didn't know what to say. He just pulled Nicky close, hugging him gently.

Dinner was peaceful and quiet. Mozzie occasionally talked about his newest conspiracy theories—mostly going back to the moon landing, which intrigued Nicky. After dinner, Nicky got his DS from his bedroom and played on the couch in the living room, Mozzie at his side. Peter and Neal were out on the balcony and had been for a little while.

"I'm terrified, Peter," Neal admitted. "I'm going to testify against Adler, which you know already, but I…I can't face my mom. We've been estranged for almost seventeen years. I don't know how I could look at her and have a…normal conversation. She hurt me, Peter, without even having to touch me."

Peter nodded beside him. "If you want, I'll go with you," he offered. He had the feeling that Neal was going to stand by his decision to stay away from his mother. She was still in the hospital and they'd discovered that bones were broken, more than likely by Adler.

Neal was about to snap at him, tell Peter that he didn't need to see her, he didn't want to see her, but he relaxed, knowing Peter was trying to help him. "I guess. If you're there, you can pull me away from her if things get ugly."

"Planning an argument?" Peter asked, slight amusement in his voice.

"No, but I'm expecting one." He lifted his wine glass off of the ledge and drank from it slowly, watching Peter do the same with his bottle of beer. "She thought I lied to her. If she's really trying to find me, she must know I was telling the truth, which means all I'm going to hear are apologies filled with lies."

Peter slid his arm around Neal, rubbing his left hip. "Maybe she just wants to see you again. You're still her son."

Neal laughed bitterly. "She was never my mom though." He leaned closer to Peter, breathing evenly. "I thought I was going to be a bad parent because of her. I thought I was going to ruin Nicky the way she ruined me. I was afraid that there would come a day when he'd tell me something so traumatic and I'd just shrug it off and tell him it meant nothing. Just like she did."

"You're better than her," Peter said firmly. "She raised you poorly, but look how well you've turned out. You're a wonderful man with an amazing son, a nice apartment, a good job, and good friends."

The younger man looked up at him, smiling. "You forgot about the fuckin' fantastic boyfriend I have."

Peter chuckled, kissing Neal's forehead. "Well, yeah, I guess." He held Neal close, staring up at the night sky, the stars flickering brilliantly above them. "You picked yourself up when you were kicked down, Neal. Be proud of who you became because of her. If she hadn't hurt you, you might not be the man you are right now."

He took that into consideration. "I suppose you're right. I'm glad I'm here right now as I am. I have Nick, Moz, and _you._ Sometimes I think my life really sucks, but then I realize it's just the past that sucks."

Peter nodded. "Let's keep that in the past and work on making the future better." He looked down at Neal, who'd closed his eyes. "_Our_ future," he added, his voice barely above a whisper.


	21. Chapter 21

Friday morning, two days after rescuing Nicky, Peter and Neal entered the FBI building together. They'd gotten confirmation that Adler was in fact locked up and received surveillance privileges as well. Adler's men were being interrogated, but they really hadn't committed any crimes, unless working for Adler was considered a crime—Neal thought it was.

In the elevator, Neal shuddered. It was something Peter almost missed, but he'd gotten so good at picking up his partner's miniscule movements. "What's on your mind?"

The doors swung closed and Neal glanced over at him. "I don't feel all that great today," he admitted. "I'm not sure what it is." He was trying to lie and failing.

Peter took his hand, rubbing his thumb over Neal's skin. "Listen, we can always reschedule the hospital visitation, Neal. It's not like you promised her you'd come today." Neal sighed, nodding. Of course Peter could see right through him. The fact that Neal had been restless in his sleep, muttering things at random, helped, too. Peter caught a lot of what he said, watching his facial expressions, and how he was reacting physically. Anytime he mentioned Adler in his sleep, he'd start thrashing and Peter struggled to wake him up. Mentions of his mother had him curling against Peter, attempting to crawl into his skin and hide away. Peter held him then, debating on whether or not he should wake Neal.

Neal stopped taking naps throughout the day because he knew he was having nightmares and guessed by how sweet Peter was acting that Peter was aware of it as well. "I feel obligated," Neal whispered. "She's always had the ability to make me feel guilty on a whim."

The elevator paused once they'd reached their floor and the doors swung open. Peter motioned for Neal to walk ahead of him, trailing after the younger man. They both hung their jackets in the same area and, since they were alone for the time being, Peter stood behind him, holding his hips as he pressed his lips against Neal's neck. Neal seemed hesitant to make any moves, but Peter grinned, speaking first. "I know it's not the time nor the place," he mumbled against Neal's neck, "but I want you to know how deeply, truly in love with you I am."

Neal rolled his eyes. "We really need to stop watching sappy love stories before fucking."

Peter laughed, kissing Neal's neck before resting his chin on the younger man's shoulder. He slid his arms around Neal's waist, clasping his hands together in front of his abdomen. "You love those movies and I love watching them with you." Neal smiled, resting his hands on top of Peter's. "So, for tonight, what are we watching?"

Neal chuckled, leaning back against Peter. "I haven't thought that far ahead. I'm thinking about the meeting we have in a few hours, about going home and making dinner for us, and about how hot the lovemaking is going to be since you just bought more condoms." Peter shivered, thrilled by Neal's words. "Oh, and I found your porn collection under the bed, in case you didn't know that already." Peter froze. He'd hidden those perfectly—and only watched them if Neal wasn't around for a couple of hours. "Someone," he said pointedly, "decided to shove my shoes under there, so you basically exposed yourself, Peter."

"There was always that little thrill in the idea that you might not see them though." He nipped Neal's shoulder gently. "And you're in no position to talk. The laptop had a virus on it because somebody went on one too many gay porn sites."

"Ah, fuck you," Neal said noncommittally. "I got the virus off before you even knew about it, dork."

"Your history doesn't lie though."

Someone cleared their throat and they separated quickly. This was someone neither of them recognized. "I'm Agent Turkovich."

Peter stepped forward, extending his hand to the woman, "Agent Burke." He gestured towards Neal. "This is one of our probationary agents, Caffrey." Neal murmured a pleasantry while shaking her hand, then he put his hands in his pockets. Peter thought about telling Neal to take the fedora off since they were at work, especially since someone new was here—and he's a probie, for that matter.

"You two seem pretty close for a special agent and probationary agent."

There was no reason to hide their relationship, as Hughes told them. Peter nodded. "He and I have been together for several months now."

"And Hughes is all right with this?" She seemed like the type to frown upon internal business-relationships. Peter nodded again. Something in Neal's gut told him they were about to get screwed. "Well, I'll be taking over for Hughes while he attends to personal matters. As long as I'm here, I'd prefer it if you didn't get so…close. What you do in your off time isn't my concern, but you will focus as long as you're here."

Peter nodded, gritting his teeth. "Understood," he said tightly. She sauntered away, her hips shifting from side to side as she walked up into Hughes' office.

"Fuckin' bitch," Neal muttered, pressing a quick kiss against Peter's cheek before taking a seat at his desk. Peter chuckled, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I normally don't talk about women like that, just so you know."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart." He leaned over Neal to look at what he was doing on the computer. "You're only going to upset yourself," he said tentatively, straightening up, his hand still on Neal's shoulder.

Neal sighed, scrolling down the page. "Adler confessed—to the kidnapping, the abuse." Peter squeezed his shoulder, waiting for the rest. "He fucking denied the rape. That son of a bitch." He hit the desk in frustration, spinning his chair. Peter took a step back so Neal wouldn't hit him.

"Neal, he's going to be charged with rape. I'll see to it that he is." He paused, thinking back to everything Neal had told him about the whole ordeal. "Can you get in touch with the doctor who checks you every six months?"

He looked up at Peter curiously. "I never saw the medical files he stored away, Peter. I don't think there's any mention or suggestion of rape, even if he thinks he knew what happened."

"Give me his name."

Neal moved over and Peter stood in front of his desk, taking over. "Paul Jamison."

Peter nodded, pulling up the database. He entered his information, knowing he'd get more access than Neal would. He pulled up files from the office and scanned through the names. When he found 'Neal Bennett,' he clicked on it. He saw medical records dating back to when Neal was sixteen. He remembered Neal telling him about the STD he'd gotten from Adler, saw that there, and continued scrolling. "Bingo," Peter said. He highlighted what he wanted Neal to see.

"Significant signs of rape," he whispered, horrified.

"Hey, it's okay," Peter said, looking down at him. "This is good. If you can get him to clear this, it can be sent over to the DA's office." Neal paled at that and Peter reached out to stroke his hair. "I know you don't want everyone to see this Neal, but there's going to be a trial—you're going to testify in front of people you don't know. You're going to tell them what he did to you and he'll get put away."

Neal nodded, swallowing hard. "I can call him in an hour or so when the office opens up."

Peter leaned closer to kiss Neal's hair. "We're going to take him down, sweetheart."

By this point, people were coming into the department. Most of them paid no mind to Peter and Neal, knowing what was going on between them. They just assumed the two of them would be working on a lot of cases together now. "Caffrey." Neal looked up when he heard his last name. Turkovich was standing in Hughes' office's doorway, gesturing for him to come up.

"This can't be good," he said under his breath. Peter rubbed his back for a brief moment, watching as Neal stood and walked up to the office. When he was inside, Turkovich closed the door and gestured for him to sit down. She didn't sit down when he did, but it looked like she was interrogating him. Neal was trying to deny something—or explain something, but she wasn't listening to him. He was surprised when Neal got up and moved towards the door. "Peter," he said tightly.

Without hesitating, Peter made his way up and into the office as well, shutting the door without having to be told to do so. "What seems to be the problem, Agent Turkovich?"

"She wants to suspend me," Neal said, obviously hurt and appalled.

Turkovich spoke over him. "His recent submission into solitary confinement seems to be enough for me to suspend him."

Peter's eyes widened. "The reason wasn't even work—"

"The reason isn't my concern, Agent Burke." She was bitter, snappish with him. That immediately put her on Peter's bad side. "The file said he was considered a suicide risk. I don't think it's very healthy to have someone with this mindset working with us until he's—"

"Excuse me," Peter interrupted, "but I don't seem to recall you telling me you had the authority to access our files. Hughes would have told me if you did." She glared at him, knowing she'd been caught. "Consider this a warning, Agent Turkovich: you suspend him, my wrath and fury will hit you tenfold. You can't just waltz into this building and assume you have authority over everything for something so temporary. Reese will be back on Monday, so you really do have no authority."

She looked away from Peter, muttering a dismissal, and he took that as a win. He grabbed Neal's hand, tugging him along as he threw the office door open and led Neal back to his desk where they'd been having their discussion. "That was…impressive," Neal said, sounding a bit dazed. Peter smiled at him. "You really put Turkobitch in her place in there."

Peter chuckled. "I've told you before that I'll do anything for you—even if you don't ask. Well, you called me in there, so…" Neal kissed his jaw, allowing him that. "Should we discuss the meeting we have with Sullivan?"

"I'm _your_ probationary agent, Agent Burke. I'm at your command." He smirked up at Peter.

The older man rolled his eyes, sighing. "You always do this, you bastard." He rested a hand on Neal's hip, rubbing it. "Damn shame that our lunch break will be spent investigating a potential murderer."

Neal shrugged. "We could always find a broom closet."

"Don't tempt me."

They looked over a few things regarding the trial Neal would have to attend at some point in the next couple of weeks and then headed up to Peter's office with all of the information on their murder case in hand. Neal sat down across from him, as was their routine. Neal had lost himself in thought somewhere along the way and Peter noticed how focused he was. Neal was biting the end of a pen, reading into something very attentively. He didn't startle when Peter asked him what he was doing. "Finding damning information on Sullivan." He leaned back to look at Peter. "She's moved around quite a bit, switching between companies every so often each time she relocates. I'll have you pull up some info on these companies just to be sure, but I guarantee we'll find some issue related to the corporate psychologists."

Neal rattled off the names of the companies he was referring to and Peter looked them up. He scanned through some articles and other relevant files, only to laugh. Neal raised an eyebrow. "You're absolutely right. She was in DC before coming here, and the corporate psychologist there was also killed—foul play ruled out."

"So they determined it was a suicide." Peter nodded. "She's good," Neal said, sounding mildly impressed. "She knows how to cover her tracks, but we're going to catch her in the act."

Peter looked at him in confusion. "How so?"

Neal only smiled, extending his hand towards Peter. "Doctor Nick Halden, corporate psychologist, at your service." Peter stared at him in disbelief.

"I sometimes wonder if you're psychotic," Peter muttered. "How are you going to get inside _and_ get the credentials for this?"

The younger man chuckled. "Easy. The receptionist changes every few days. We'll have a new one today. You'll introduce yourself—probably drag Jones along if you'd like—and go about your meeting as you would if I were going in with you."

"Okay, but my question about the credentials is still unanswered."

"You've gone undercover before. You'll give me good references." He winked and Peter gaped at him.

•◊•

"You're officially insane." Neal laughed, putting his reading glasses on. He was wearing a nice suit with a clip-on nametag Peter had made for him pretty quickly—Peter's authority over the lower-ranked agents was impressive at times, if not a bit frightening. Peter reached over to push one of Neal's curls back behind his ear. He also made sure the earpiece was properly in place. "This is a transceiver piece, so if I hear that you're in trouble at any point—"

"—you'll rescue the damsel in a man's body." Peter rolled his eyes. "I'll be listening on your end, too. She should go to you before coming to me."

Peter nodded. "You've got the recorder?" Neal patted his chest, smiling. They had a pen clipped to the breast pocket that would serve as his recording device. "Gun?" Neal opened his suit jacket, showing Peter the holster harness wrapped around his chest. "Kiss?" Neal smirked, leaning forward to kiss Peter's lips.

They parted a moment later. "Jones is here," Neal said, nodding at the side view mirror. "Best of luck to you, Agent Burke. I'll see you on the inside."

"Good luck, Doctor Halden." He kissed the corner of Neal's mouth before they both got out of the _Taurus._ "All right. Get your sexy ass inside," Peter muttered as Jones was nearing them. Neal nodded, heading towards the building. He had all the proper paperwork he'd need to provide once he was inside—courtesy of Agent Peter Burke.

Jones paused beside Peter. "You put a lot of faith into the kid, Peter."

"I know it isn't misguided is the nice part. I trust him to carry out his part. This is his first _major_ assignment." He didn't tell Jones how terrified he was that all of this could go wrong very quickly. Sullivan could walk into Neal's 'office' and open up to him, then shoot him. Neal had no vest on as protection. If he was shot, he was likely to be as good as dead if her shots were perfect. "We give him five minutes to give her the papers and get into the elevator, then we go in."

They were listening to the conversation Neal was having through the earpiece. "_Hi, I'm Doctor Halden—the new corporate psychologist,_" he said, his voice sounding very charming. Peter could only imagine the charming smile that went along with it. The woman at the desk seemed flustered as she asked for his documentations and credentials, which he provided without hesitation. She said everything checked out nicely and gave him directions to his office. "_Thank you very much._" Peter heard his footsteps and then the pushing of a button. The elevator dinged and opened for him. As soon as the doors were closed, he spoke again. "_Good work, Peter. No problem at all._" He scoffed through the earpiece. "_And you called the idea 'insane.'_"

"I recall calling _you_ insane, not the idea," Peter countered, smiling.

He could just see Neal shrugging. "_It was implied, Burke._" After a few moments, the elevator dinged again. "_Getting out to head to my office. Good luck, guys._"

Peter wanted to tell Neal he loved him—just in case things went south. However, he didn't want to do that in front of Jones. Neal knew without having to hear it though. "All right, it's our turn now. You're posing as Neal now. You're a probie." He said that with a hint of amusement.

Jones sighed. "Grateful that we aren't in a relationship. That corporate psycho of yours seems to suit you well."

"_Kinda distracting, guys,_" Neal muttered, slightly annoyed.

"Okay, okay. We're going in." Peter and Jones both entered the building, Jones trailing behind Peter to fit the role he had to play. The receptionist greeted them and Peter gave her a small smile before flashing his badge. "Special Agent Peter Burke. My probationary agent and I had a scheduled meet with Jane Sullivan today. She is in, right?"

The woman nodded. "Oh, yes, of course." Peter refrained from sighing. "I'll send you right up. She said to expect you."

Peter thanked her and led Jones to the elevator. "Neal, how's it going?" he asked when the doors closed.

"_We have the warrant, right? I forgot to ask earlier._"

Peter chuckled. "Yes, dear. I do know how to get a warrant very well. Also, we're on our way up. You aren't too far from where we'll be."

"_Good to know you'll be quick to assist if she decides to murder me on my first day._"

He heard the sarcasm in Neal's tone. "Just grin—that wide grin that I love. It'll win her over." Neal groaned. "Don't worry. If all goes well, this op will be done soon."

Neal went quiet after that, which concerned Peter. "_Peter, she's coming to me first,_" he whispered a few moments later.

"Shit." They hadn't anticipated on her seeing Neal before them since they had a schedule to uphold. "Just relax, Neal. We're still in the elevator."

"_You must be our new psychologist,_" she said sweetly. He knew how nervous Neal felt right now and couldn't blame him.

After all, Neal was alone in a room with a potential murderer. "_Must be,_" he replied cheekily. "_Doctor Halden._"

He heard rustling of clothes and figured they were shaking hands. "_Jane Sullivan._"

Neal sat down, which made Peter even more on edge. "_What can I do for you?_"

"_I have a little time before one of my meetings has to start. I figured I'd come check you out—pick your brain for a few minutes, if possible._"

The elevator shut down, jostling Peter and Jones in it. "Fuck," Peter hissed. "Neal, we're stuck in the elevator on the fifty-second floor."

"_Of course._" Peter figured that was intended for him, but decided to ignore it and work on finding a way out. If they needed to race up a flight of stairs, they would. "_What's on your mind?_"

Peter heard heels clicking on the floor. "_How old are you, Doctor Halden?_"

Neal swallowed. "_Thirty-two._"

She let out a light laugh, which made Peter feel sick. The buttons in the elevator weren't working. "_Any wife and kids?"_

"_Neither, ma'am._"

Jones cocked an eyebrow. "Wasn't Caffrey's kid the one we were looking for?"

"Yes, but Halden doesn't have family on record."

The sound of the heels got closer to Neal. "_Doctor, you seem very professional,_" she said with slight amusement. "_I'm sure you've seen my records with the psychologist you're filling in for. I told him about my husband—how he died._"

"_If you feel like talking about it, by all means._" He was trying to prolong the conversation until he knew Peter and Jones were there to back him up, but nothing seemed to be happening on their end.

"_Well, you see, I murdered him._" Neal was silent then and Peter's heart raced. "_He was a man with a pretty face. He stole thousands from me, Doctor._" She paused deliberately, trying to make Neal nervous. "_You kind of remind me of him already. The resemblance is astonishing._"

Neal forced a laugh. "_That doesn't happen very often._" Peter heard Neal get up from the chair. "_I take it you weren't arrested for his death, since you're out and about._"

Jones finally got the elevator doors to open. They had to climb up a little to get onto the floor, but they'd done it. "We're on our way, Neal," Peter said quickly as they raced up the stairway.

"_I have killed a lot of men, Doctor Halden._" A gun was loaded and Neal made a startled sound. "_They were all corporate psychologists—like you._" The gun fired just as Peter and Jones got to the fifty-third floor.

"Neal!" he yelled. They picked up the pace, realizing they were quite a distance away from Neal's office now. Another shot fired and Peter heard someone throw a chair. "God damn it, Neal. Pull your gun."

A whole round of shots started to fire. "_I did, damn it. Get here now!" he hissed._

Neal was fortunate that the desk was bulletproof. He'd scoot out a bit and shoot if he could manage, but he was trying to distract. The heels clicked on the floor faster and Peter listened as it sounded like the desk was shoved aside. Sullivan groaned, obviously having been hit by the edge of it, he guessed.

A gun was knocked to the floor and Sullivan chuckled. "_Sweetheart, I know you're not a psychologist._"

Neal was struggling to keep the gun away from him, Peter realized. They were nearing the office now and Peter's gun was already coming out. "FBI!" he called out as a shot was fired. Peter came in, firing his own gun. He thought he'd been able to get Sullivan, but she did the worst thing possible and twisted at the very last second. His heart stopped when he realized he'd shot Neal—right after he'd been shot by Sullivan. He cried out and collapsed to the floor. Jones came up behind Peter and fired at Sullivan's shoulder. She screamed and the gun flew out of her hand. Jones was quick to holster his gun and get his cuffs out, immediately doing so once he was able to get the upper hand over her.

If not for the earpiece, Peter would have thought he'd killed Neal, but he could hear him hissing and biting back painful cries. Peter vaguely heard Jones call for paramedics as he moved around the desk. Neal was lying on the floor, holding just above his left hip and his thigh, blood seeping between his fingers over both. He frantically tried to help Neal, but Neal told him to stop. "You've done enough," he said painfully. He closed his eyes and Peter saw him grit his teeth.

"At least let me get you to the lobby for the paramedics," Peter pleaded, feeling terrible. His aim should have been perfect. Neal shouldn't have been caught in the crossfire.

"What the _fuck_ were you aiming at?" Neal asked when Peter helped him stand.

Peter swallowed. "You had her at an angle. I aimed for her elbow."

Neal leaned heavily on Peter while they waited for the elevator, assuming it worked now. Fortunately, it did. "Well, that's something you need to work on because you were nowhere close."

They got into the elevator and Peter felt Neal's blood soaking through his pants. He glanced down, disgusted with himself for being careless. They got to the lobby just as the paramedics arrived with a gurney. Neal bit his lip when Peter lifted him carefully, setting him down on it. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice thick.

Neal shook his head. "Finish up here and come get me, okay?"

Peter nodded, watching them put temporary bandages on Neal. It was bleeding through heavily. They took him back to the ambulance and he felt frozen in his guilt. There was a slight possibility that he could have killed Neal if he'd shot him in the stomach. That thought alone made him sick.


	22. Chapter 22

"God damn it. Peter," Neal hissed, bracing himself on the wall in the small hallway of their apartment. Peter came rushing in from the other room, one arm circling Neal's waist while his free hand took Neal's left arm.

Peter felt terrible about Neal's injuries, and it made him feel worse when Neal shrugged it off, telling him it was an accident. "Hurting too much?" Peter asked quietly.

Neal nodded. "My thigh is throbbing when I walk. I need to go to the bathroom." Peter helped him get into the bathroom. He was going to give Neal privacy, but the younger man figured privacy was unnecessary since they'd already seen everything the other had to offer. He relieved himself, Peter standing behind him, hand on his back to keep him balanced.

"I thought you were supposed to be using the cane, Neal. It was the doctor's orders."

Neal finished and zipped his pants, Peter helping him turn to the sink so he could wash his hands. "When you learn to aim _correctly, I'll listen to the doctor." He turned the water on and hit the soap dispenser, then put his hands under the water._

Anytime he tried to help Neal in any way, he'd become bitter. He never said he was holding this against him, but he sure acted like he was. "You know I'm only trying to—"

"I know."

And that was that. Peter knew the conversation was over, so he just let Neal finish up, turn the water off, dry his hands, and then helped Neal out and back to the bed. Neal pushed himself backwards until his back was against the wall. Peter hovered slightly, standing beside the bed. "When do you want me to get Nicky?"

"Trent's mom is going to drop him off in an hour." Peter nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. "He called me last night to tell me he loves me and wanted me to tell you that he loves you, too," Neal said, unprompted.

Peter realized that Neal hadn't said anything to him about it last night after he'd come home. "I see."

Neal slid his hand across the bed and Peter rested his on top of Neal's. "I'm sorry. I haven't been very… I haven't been the best partner. I've been giving you hell since I came home last night." Peter squeezed his hand. "I was so hellbent on getting out of there so I wouldn't have to stay overnight, and then I gave you the cold shoulder when we were in bed."

"I waited until you fell asleep to hold you," Peter whispered.

The younger man laughed lightly. "I wasn't asleep." Peter looked at him, confused. "I wanted you to hold me, but I knew I was being a prick and didn't deserve it. I like when we spoon."

"Even when you're in a foul mood, I like being close to you." Neal nodded. He'd realized that on many occasions. They were quiet for a few minutes. "I'm really sorry. I can't tell you that enough," Peter said guiltily. "I feel terrible. I have to look at you, watch you suffer, and know I had a hand in that."

"I can get my gun and shoot you and we'll call it even," Neal teased. When Peter frowned, he sobered up. "I admitted to being a prick. I don't hate you, Superman." Peter smiled a little at Neal's choice of a pet-name for him. "Come here so I don't have to strain myself and bleed all over the place."

Peter turned to look at him. He'd cleaned the sheets this morning because Neal was still bleeding through the bandages. They gave him thick bandages after removing the bullets, but said it would probably bleed a little longer, which meant Peter had to keep a close eye on Neal in case he lost too much blood. He lifted his hand of off Neal's, watching him retract it, then scooted closer to him. Neal leaned over to rest against Peter, who threw his arm around Neal's shoulders. "You've gotten shot three times—that I can recall—while working," Peter said. "The first shooter is still on the run, the second is being interrogated as we speak, and—"

"—the third is keeping me company even though I'm a major asshole." Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm not mad at you, just so you know. I'm mad at myself for getting into that position. The thigh was bad enough and that was sheer carelessness on my part, or stupidity. Shooting me just above the hip was an accident. It's not like you lay here at night, thinking about how to get rid of me."

"I think it can be categorized under the 'ways to keep you in bed.'"

Neal smiled. "You could've just asked, you know." Neal nuzzled his face against Peter's chest. "Like you did when you got everybody together to celebrate my first year with the bureau. You couldn't wait to get out of there and into bed with me."

"I like celebrating you, but yeah. I think I like being in bed, curled up around you more."

Peter looked down at Neal when the younger man looked up at him. "Want to make out for a little bit?" Peter chuckled, squeezing Neal's shoulder. "I wasn't teasing you. We have a little time before Nick's home."

The older man smiled and laid Neal down on the pillows, then crawled on top of him, his right leg resting between Neal's thighs. He would've squeezed Neal between his legs, but he didn't want to hurt his injured thigh more than he already had while attempting to make love to him earlier. He kissed Neal sweetly at first, then added a bit more fire to it. Neal's tongue brushed up against his lips and he willingly opened his mouth for Neal. He rarely tried that, so Peter accepted it whenever he did.

Peter slid his hands down Neal's body, pulling the hem of his shirt up so he could slide his hands underneath it, tracing the hard planes of Neal's chest. Neal moaned into his mouth, flicking his tongue against Peter's.

Without warning, the door flew open. Peter startled and pulled back quickly, nearly throwing himself across the bed to grab his gun from the nightstand drawer before realizing it was only Mozzie. Neal had his hands over his face, sighing. "I interrupted you again," Mozzie said, not entirely apologetic. He glanced at Neal, raising an eyebrow. "Is this as bad as when you broke your arm while reconstructing the place?"

"I'm not sure," Neal mumbled. He laid his hands on his stomach. "That was just twisting my arm a little too much in the wrong direction. And it wasn't like you offered to help me rip the door out and build the wall—then replace the door on the other side. You were more than happy to take a hammer to the wall on this side once I outlined the doorframe for you."

Mozzie smiled fondly at Neal. "Your arm was broken. Breaking down the wall so you could put the door in was the least I could do." Neal scoffed at him. At Peter's confused look, Mozzie answered, "The door to Nicky's room used to be in the hallway to the bathroom. He tried to leave it that way when Nicky was still a baby, but he'd run into the wall in the middle of the night and—"

"I'm not as stupid as he's making me out to be," Neal muttered, crossing his arms over his chest after readjusting the shirt.

Peter chuckled. "Everyone in this room knows how smart you are, mon frère," Mozzie responded. "Anyway, he got tired of the hallway at, what, three in the morning?" At Neal's nod, he continued. "Poor bastard was always so tired, so he decided it was time to do some remodeling. That used to be his suit storage room, but he gave that up. That was painful to watch."

Neal rolled his eyes. "I wasn't _that_ dramatic, Moz. I have a closet to hang them in. Peter's got some suits in there, too." Mozzie smirked at him. "Aside from my first-time parent idiocies, I recall you actually popping popcorn at my expense."

"Indeed. It was fun to watch you, you know. That was the first thing you really put your heart into after everything." Neal nodded at the truth behind that. He hadn't felt like doing anything but dying a slow, painful death in his bedroom for the longest time. Keller had broken it off at that point and Neal was struggling to put aside his need for alcohol. "I thought it was healthy, so I stuck around to watch you work."

"I admit, it was a lot easier to get to a crying baby after I fixed the doorway. I didn't have to zigzag all over the place between my room, the hallway, his room, the kitchen, his room again, and then eventually back to my bed."

Peter rubbed Neal's chest. "For whatever reason, I think I'm actually interested in seeing you all maternal with a baby." Neal cocked an eyebrow at him, as if he were thinking 'bitch, please.' "What, you don't want another kid?"

"I didn't say that, but we'd have to adopt unless I somehow managed to lose my dick and gain a vagina." Mozzie cracked up at that and Neal rolled his eyes. "Grow up, Moz. You knew I was the girl anyway."

Mozzie nodded, still laughing. "It's just funny when you admit to it." Neal knew what he was going to say next just by how hysterically funny Moz seemed to find whatever he was thinking. "You even tried to be a girl at one point, remember?" Neal's face flushed and he focused on the floor. "His hair was shoulder length. He put lipstick and makeup on in the morning, got rid of the shadow on his face, shaved his legs so he could try out a dress… Oh, God. That was the funniest fucking thing I ever saw. He made for a pretty gorgeous woman though."

Peter could just see it now. Neal had actually considered becoming a drag queen at one point and he found it slightly amusing. Peter kissed Neal's cheek. "As interesting as that sounds, I think I like Neal over Nealina." Neal gave him a death glare. "You look sexy in suits and ties," Peter insisted, raising his hands to dispute his innocence. "I like your hair and your face as they are. You don't need makeup or any of that other girly stuff to make me love you."

"That's good because I _really_ don't like 'Nealina.'" All three men chuckled, Peter leaning over to kiss Neal's neck. Neal was quiet for a few moments, then looked between the two of them. "I…" The other two men sobered up instantly, waiting patiently for Neal to continue. "I need to ask you both to do me a favor—if you're willing to, that is."

•◊•

"We don't have to do this," Peter reminded him. "I can take you home. Mozzie texted me and said Nicky got back safely."

Neal inhaled slowly. "I need to do this, Peter." Peter only nodded in response, letting Neal make his own decisions. He was there to support his partner as best he could—that was the favor he'd been asked. They were in the hospital, standing in the hallway, their arms linked together. Peter was very patient with Neal. He didn't understand the apprehension the younger man felt, but he was going to be at Neal's side nonetheless.

Peter lifted his other hand, resting it atop the hand Neal slipped through the crook of his arm. "Take all the time you need, sweetheart." Neal closed his eyes, nodding his head slowly like he was trying to listen to some kind of internal beat of music. After a few moments, his eyes opened and he looked up at Peter. "You ready?"

"I think so."

Peter slowly led him closer to the door. He was holding most of Neal's weight since the younger man decided to use Peter as his cane. Peter knocked on the door, waiting for the hoarse, Southern accented, "Come in," before entering. He pushed the door open slowly and helped Neal inside, holding the door for him. There was a curtain blocking their view of her, but the beeps of the machines and her breathing made this all too real to Neal in that moment.

"I can't do this," he whispered. "Don't make me do this." His eyes pleaded with Peter. Peter was torn between taking him home to calm down and having Neal face his fears.

"Hello?"

Neal sucked in a breath and tried to step forward, stumbling. Peter straightened him up, holding him close. "I've got you. I'll always have you," Peter whispered.

They walked further into the room until she was in their view. Her gaze was instantly focused on Neal, who felt uncomfortable. "Neal?" she whispered.

"Mom," Neal said tightly.

Peter saw tears forming in Neal's mother's eyes. "Honey—"

"No. I want to talk first." Neal urged Peter to help him into a chair a comfortable distance away from his mother. He set Neal down in it and stood at his side, his hand resting on his shoulder to keep the contact between them. His mother looked heartbroken, but kept silent. "Why?" That one word carried so many questions that he wanted the answers to. "I don't want to fight. I just want to know why."

She shook her head, rubbing her eyes. "Sweetie, I'm sorry."

"I don't want apologies. I want an explanation," he said tightly. Peter squeezed his shoulder. Neal was already tense. "Why did you come to New York? Why did you try to find me?"

She sat up, wincing. Peter watched Neal, seeing no sympathy in his eyes. "I needed you, baby. Vincent… You were right about him. I wanted to make things right between us."

Neal laughed unnervingly, looking away from her. "You waited seventeen years."

"I'm not going to give you an excuse, Neal. Life was…complicated once you ran away." Neal looked at her again, his lips forming a tight line. Peter knew Neal was practically screaming that he didn't care inside. "I…had another baby. Vincent's."

Neal gaped at her, pain in his eyes. "How could you—?"

"I was trying to reach out to you because I wanted you to take the baby, to protect him. I failed to be a good parent for you, honey, and I couldn't live with myself if I'd ruined both of my children's lives." He was silent, his eyes watering. He'd never imagined having a younger sibling. Keller was his step-brother, but this child…this sibling would be his half-sibling. "Neal, your brother… He was raised properly by Vincent. I was scared that he would run away like you did."

"How old is he?"

She bit her lip. "He'll be sixteen this year." Neal nodded slowly, his gaze fading in and out of focus. "Sweetheart, I want to fix this—us—our family."

Neal swallowed, shaking his head. "I want nothing to do with you. I have my own family to take care of." She looked at him, hurt. "I have a son, mom, and Peter's my partner."

Peter rubbed Neal's shoulder until Neal reached up and grabbed his hand, holding onto it tightly. "Don't talk to me like that. I've wanted to fix things, baby."

"I'm a God damn adult," Neal snapped. "Just call me Neal. I may as well just be some distant relative to you. It wasn't like you gave a damn about me at any point. As soon as Adler came into our lives, he cut me out of the picture." She tried to speak and he was getting more and more upset. "He did things to me that I never dreamed would happen to me, mom, and you never stood by me. I went to you for help and you shrugged me off as though my pain meant _nothing._"

"You're my son. I—"

"I'm your biological son, but you're not my mother." That was a verbal slap in the face and he was actually okay with saying that to her. "A mother would have listened to her son's desperate cry for help. I told you what he did. I showed you what I could. You _still_ didn't believe me enough to help me." His lips were trembling. "You _laughed_ at me. That was when I realized I was on my own. You were better off without me anyway. You stayed with him after I ran." He rubbed his eyes and Peter knelt beside him, taking both of Neal's hands in his.

His mother was speechless, which pissed Neal off. "Vincent told me you provoked him."

His head snapped up at that accusation. "Excuse me?" he said, taken aback.

"He said you asked him to come into your room." Neal was mortified by the lie. He thought she understood what really happened because it sounded like she did earlier in the conversation. "Vincent said you started all of this. He told me he had your consent."

Had it not been for his injured thigh, he would have jumped out of his seat at that moment. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he cried out. "I was thirteen!" Despite Neal's intentions to be strong during this confrontation, he found himself crying. "What thirteen year old gives a God damned forty-something year old man consent to have sex with him?" She winced at how angry he was. She tried to tell him that this wasn't her fault; he should have thought before acting. He spat, "You're so fucking—I don't even know. Seventeen years later and you still don't believe me. He kidnapped my son just so he could rape me again, but I guess that means nothing to you. Your grandson was just baited so I could play a game, right?" He pushed himself off of the seat, cringing at the pain that shot up his leg. "Peter, take me home _now._ I have nothing else to say."

Peter stood, grabbing Neal's arm to steady him. "You're gay, Neal." He froze, his head slowly lifting to look at her. "Vincent thought you were attracted to him…"

Neal made a strangled sound of disbelief. He leaned on Peter, trying to fight the intense pain. "I'm gay, yes, but fuck you for assuming I asked to be raped because of that." He looked up at Peter, his eyes filled with tears. "Please, take me home now. I don't care if you throw me out the window to the car or carry me, but get me out of here."

"Neal, don't leave, baby. Please, I—"

"Enough!" Neal snapped. Peter was going to lift Neal into his arms and carry him out, but he knew Neal needed closure. "I'm so tired of hearing you lie to me. My own son is more honest than you'll ever be. Hell, I bet _dad_ is more honest than you."

She took offense to that. "Your father was never part of your life. You never got to know him."

"And I blame you for that." He looked at Peter and the older man took that as his sign to do something. He shifted Neal around until he was able to lift him into his arms, holding him bridal style. "I've lost both my parents and you've lost a son. At least we're no longer an inconvenience to each other. Pretend I'm dead," he whispered, "because you've been dead to me since the day I ran."

She started telling him that he was a bastard—literally—and that he deserved what Adler did because it was his fault to begin with. Peter couldn't bear listening to this anymore. He couldn't believe how brainwashed this woman was. Neal had so much proof, so many emotional problems, experienced so much trauma… It broke his heart to hear that turned around on Neal. He didn't let Neal get another word out or allow him to keep listening to his mother.

Peter carried Neal to the door, throwing it open so they could leave. All of the fight left Neal once they were out of the room. His arms were around Peter's neck and he was silently crying. "Sweetheart…" Peter whispered brokenly. He carried Neal down the hallway towards a lounge. He figured they could sit there for a few minutes while Neal calmed down. He tried to seat Neal down on a chair, but Neal clung to him, so he sat in the chair and held Neal in his lap. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't ever let me talk you into taking me there ever again," he whispered against Peter's neck. Peter nodded, resting his head against Neal's. "I'm sorry that Nick and Moz are the only family I have to offer to you, Peter, but thank God I have you and your family."

Peter kissed his hair. "You always will, Neal. You're my family. I wish I could get to know your parents, but I understand the circumstances and I accept it. If it makes you unhappy to be around your mom, then I'm not going to insist that you see her anymore."

Neal nodded. "Thank you." He startled sniffling, his arm moving around Peter's neck so he could rub the tears away. "God, I'm such a baby. I keep asking people to treat me like an adult, but I cry over every little thing. If you dropped the milk, I'd probably bawl my eyes out."

He thought about laughing, but realized that wasn't what Neal wanted right now. "She hurt you. You're strong, Neal, but things can still cause you pain—she can cause you pain."

"She implied that I wanted to be raped," he whispered.

"We both know that isn't true." Neal nodded. "If she can't believe you after all this time, then she doesn't deserve to be in your life, sweetheart. Despite what I was brought up to believe, you're better off without your mom."

Neal laughed sadly. "I actually thought things might work out, but I tried not to believe it too much. I didn't want to get my hopes up."

Peter sighed, rubbing Neal's upper thigh, staying as far away from the injuries as he could. "Everything will be okay. You've done really well for yourself without her guidance. You're a very intelligent, beautiful man. I don't know how, after everything that happened to you, but I'm glad this is who you are. You're the only man I've ever met who made me feel like all the pieces were falling into place." He kissed Neal's hair again. "You've balanced my life, brought happiness and love into it. I desperately hope I've done the same for you to compensate for all the pain."

Neal actually smiled, kissing Peter's neck. "You're the light at the end of a very dark tunnel, Superman. I came out and you took me into your arms and flew me across the stars," he whispered.

"I'll give you all the stars in the sky if it keeps you happy."

The younger man pulled back to look up at his partner. "I have all of the stars." He tapped Peter's chest, just above his heart. "You're the beautiful sky, Peter. You bring hope, light, and joy whenever you're with me—even if we have a bad night or an argument. I always, _always_ know that we're going to make it through the darkness," he said sincerely. "My whole world could fall apart right now. I've lost my mother. I never had a father. All I have is you, Moz, and Nick. I'm holding onto all of you so tightly like my life depends on it."

Peter rubbed his shoulder, kissing his cheek. "You put your life into good hands then, sweetheart."


	23. Chapter 23

A month later, Neal found himself in his sitting area with a teenager staring at him. They'd both been silent thus far. Peter was at work, Nicky at school, and Mozzie was off doing whatever he did during the day. Neal was out off and on—per Peter's request—due to his injuries that were getting better each day. Even though Peter had him at home, the older man sent him occasional emails to ask for help on a particular case he couldn't figure out. He'd been waiting for Peter to email him back when the knock came and the teenager walked in. Neal didn't ask questions. He already knew who it was.

Neal crossed his arms over his chest. This stare down was starting to get really old and he thought about kicking the young man out, but decided his manners were better than that—and that this was family who didn't seem to loathe him. "So you're my older brother? The one who ran?" Neal nodded slowly. "Why did you run? Was it because mom was having me?"

"No. I didn't know anything about you until I saw…her." Neal uncrossed his arms, sighing. "I don't even know your name."

"Michael James Adler." Neal's lip curled in disgust for a split second. Now he was pissed at his mother. James was _his_ father's name and she'd defiled it by giving it to Adler's kid. "Why do you hate my dad? All he ever did was talk about you."

Neal shook his head. "I don't want to hear anything about your father."

Michael nodded. "You arrested him," he said.

"He kidnapped my son, so yes." Michael's eyes widened. "Oh, I guess she didn't mention that to you then."

The teenager looked around, seeing distant pictures of his brother with a young boy who he assumed was his nephew—others with an older man. "Can I see a picture of him?"

Neal thought about it and was about to tell him no, but found himself getting up and heading over to his bedroom area. He leaned across the bed to Peter's side and grabbed the framed picture Peter had taken of Neal and Nicky. It was one of the more recent pictures. He brought it over to Michael, handing it to him. "His name's Nicolas."

Neal's laptop beeped. He walked over to it while Michael looked at the picture of Nicky. His laptop was about to die, so he plugged it in, pulling his phone off of the USB charger he'd attached to the laptop. Peter texted him to ask how he was doing and he replied that he was doing all right, but had a guest. "He looks a lot like you." Neal glanced over at him. "Mom showed me pictures of you when you were younger. It always made her so sad."

"You have no idea why I ran? Not even the slightest clue?" Michael shook his head. "All right."

Michael bit his lip, setting the framed picture on the coffee table. "Can you tell me?"

Neal shrugged. "Someday, maybe. You're too enamored by your father's vision to believe me, so I won't waste my breath." He looked slightly hurt by being brushed off by his older brother, but decided that it was probably better to leave it alone. They both looked at the door when someone was unlocking the door. Peter came in and Neal's smile lit up Peter's world as soon as his looked at his lover. "Hey, you."

Peter closed the door behind him, grinning at Neal. He stepped closer to him, kissing his neck before setting his coffee down on the table. "Hey, gorgeous. Thought I'd come by for lunch." Peter finally caught sight of the younger man sitting in one of Neal's favorite chairs. "Who's this?"

"My brother." Peter had to do a double-take, seeing the resemblance the second time he looked at the younger man. "Peter, this is Michael. Michael, this is my boyfriend, Peter."

Michael stood up, holding his hand out towards Peter. The older man gave him a curious look, accepting the handshake. Neal himself was mildly impressed. He made no comment about them being a couple. "It's a pleasure to meet you," Michael said graciously.

"As it is to meet you," Peter said in reply. Peter was glad Neal didn't look furious with the younger man. He could tell that Michael really wanted to meet Neal. "So…what are you boys up to?"

Neal shrugged. "Just talking a little."

"I like your accent." Neal gave Michael a questioning look. "Mom said you had her southern drawl."

"I…grew up in the south, but I've been trying to get it out of my system." Peter hadn't noticed the accent. It wasn't very prominent at times. He just loved to hear Neal, but he guessed he hadn't been listening very attentively. Now that he was looking for it, he could hear it occasionally. "Why don't you?"

"I grew up in Ohio and New York. My dad didn't have an accent and he was around more often than she was."

Neal nodded. "Sounds just like mom." Peter stood beside Neal, taking his hand. Neal looked up at him then. "Oh, shit, sorry. Lunch?" Peter chuckled, kissing his cheek. "I forgot I promised you a lunch date."

He squeezed Neal's hand, giving Michael a quick glance. "We could all have lunch together, if you'd like to join us." Michael looked at Neal, waiting for his approval or disapproval. Neal shrugged, kissing Peter's jaw before heading over to the kitchen area. Michael caught Peter watching Neal's ass and flushed. Peter looked at Michael a moment later. "He makes fantastic deviled-ham sandwiches."

"Despite how terrible they smell," Neal added. "Sitting in a car with him and that thing is the worst."

"Well, we both know you're an extreme sweetheart."

Neal chuckled. "The shit I do for you…" Peter hesitated for a split second before walking over to Neal, standing behind him. He slid his arms around Neal's waist, murmuring something against his hair. Michael watched curiously, figuring it was definitely something he didn't need to hear when Neal made some kind of squeaky sound. "God damn it, Peter," he growled. Peter only laughed, kissing Neal's neck. "Bastard. I'm not going to make the rest of this sandwich."

"Yes, you will." Neal gave him a challenging look. "I know you will because you love me too much not to."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Peter smiled, squeezing Neal gently before letting go. The older man turned, motioning for Michael to join him at the table. Neal leaned over to the right, turning his small radio on to classic music.

Michael noticed how lovingly Peter looked at his brother. It was really strange to him. His mother never said Neal was into men, not that he particularly cared, but it would've helped to have some kind of heads up. Peter looked at Michael, smiling softly. "You look like him. Well, except that your hair is lighter." The more closely he looked at the young man, he realized that Neal and Michael had different colored eyes as well. He definitely preferred the pale blue of Neal's though.

"Mom said the same thing when I was growing up." Peter looked at him and saw something there, something like…like resentment. He'd seen that look in his own sister's eyes a few times when they were kids, teenagers even. "She always talked about him, but he was never there." He crossed his arms on the table and Peter nodded slowly. "It's like he meant more to her than I ever did. I grew up in his shadow and he wasn't even there."

Neal had gotten quiet by the kitchen counter. One look at him told Peter he was listening as well, even as he kept making the sandwiches. "Neal was her first, Michael. He was sixteen when he ran away. I'd imagine that was hard on her—losing her baby like that."

"I'm not saying it was wrong for her to miss him," he whispered. "She always called me Neal though."

Peter glanced over at the counter once he heard absolute silence there—with the exception of the music playing quietly on the radio. "I'm several years younger than my sister, so I understand the feeling. Actually, I was married to a woman before I met your brother _because_ of my sister's shadow."

"Really? Why?"

Neal smiled weakly at Peter. "Well, my parents were very traditional, if you will. Neal and I are only a couple years apart in age, but we grew up in a time where homosexuality wasn't entirely…embraced. A lot of bad things happened to gays, so I stayed in the closet." Peter rubbed his wrist. "I married Elizabeth. She's a lovely woman, but I never loved her the way I love Neal. I married her because I felt like I needed to impress my parents the way my sister did."

Michael nodded slowly, like he understood what Peter was saying entirely. "So you made yourself miserable to keep the family happy?" Peter nodded. "How are you together now though? Did you tell them?"

Peter looked at Neal when Neal looked at him again. "We went up to my parents' house for Christmas, actually. It was…rough. My mom was absolutely against it and kept insulting Neal, insisting that he leave." Peter shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We spent a week there and it was hell until Neal finally snapped and told her how things were. After that, things got better. My mom was how my mom always was, really."

Neal brought the sandwiches over to the two sitting at the table, setting Peter's two sandwiches in front of him and two in front of Michael. He hoped it was all right with the younger man because he hadn't objected to eating it beforehand. Neal pulled the chair beside Peter back and slipped in, only to have Peter capture his lips in a searing kiss before he could readjust himself at the table. When Peter pulled away, Neal was breathless. His eyes were wider and he sat, staring at Peter. Peter knew Neal liked those kisses, so he smiled to himself as he bit into his sandwich. "You guys seem really happy."

"We are," Neal said quietly. "He's made me happier than I've ever been with another man and I…I'm the first man he's been with, but he tells me I make him happy." Neal leaned against Peter, closing his eyes. Peter nudged him, which Neal knew was him asking why Neal hadn't gotten himself anything to eat. He shrugged in response. "You seeing anybody, Michael?"

"Yeah, I have a girl. Her name's Melissa."

Neal smiled, opening his eyes a little. "Is she good to you?"

Michael laughed. "Oh, you'd like her. She's amazing. She understands me, this thing with our family. She said she wants to spend the rest of her life with me."

Peter felt Neal stiffen against him. He looked down at him, concerned. Just as Peter was about to ask him if he was all right, Neal sat up. "That's great," he whispered. Peter kept his eyes on Neal, waiting for him to say something—or at least give him a look that explained what he was thinking or feeling.

There was an awkward silence then. Neal fiddled with the hem of his shirt before excusing himself. Peter grabbed his wrist when Neal rose to his full height. Neal just looked at him sadly. Quietly, Neal asked Peter to come with him, which surprised Peter. "Excuse _us,_" he said as he pushed his chair back and stood, following Neal into the narrow hallway. They were between Neal's tuxedo storage in the wall and the bathroom door when they stopped. "Are you all right?"

"Peter, he's just like me," Neal said quietly. The older man was slightly confused, unsure of what Neal was getting at. "Matthew said the same thing to me when I started dating him and I fell in love too hard, too fast. I don't want him to have to go through that."

Peter stroked his cheekbone, smiling. "Sweetheart," he said fondly, "he can handle himself. You made it through it. If he has to go through it, he'll make it like you did." Neal sighed and Peter leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "You sometimes worry unnecessarily, which makes me love you all the more."

"Oh, _I_ worry unnecessarily?" He cocked an eyebrow until Peter kissed him, then he gave himself over to the kiss. Peter slid his mouth away from Neal's, choosing to suck at his neck. "We're being terrible hosts," he whispered.

Peter chuckled, sucking as hard as he could before pulling away. "As long as you're okay," he said, giving Neal the option to stay put if he needed it. Neal shrugged and took Peter's hand, leading him back into the living area. "Where'd he go?" Michael wasn't at the table anymore and Neal really didn't want him snooping around, especially because Mozzie left files lying around in the open.

Neal went to look in Nicky's room, finding his brother there. "You okay?" Peter stood behind him, rubbing his back.

"Just thinking. My dad never gave me a nice room like this." Peter patted Neal's back, kissing the back of his neck before heading back to the kitchen table. Neal went into his son's room, sitting on the bed beside his brother. "My dad was the only dad you had growing up. How are you this good?"

Neal shook his head, laughing. "I'm not the best parent. I certainly wouldn't win awards for it. I just…I love my boy. He came into my life when it was very dark and things have gotten better since." He looked around the room, smiling at all the posters he remembered buying Nicky with paychecks he'd just gotten. The fact that he hadn't saved enough money didn't keep him from spoiling his son. "Nick's my life."

Michael nodded. "What happened to his mom, if you don't mind me asking?"

"From what I understand, she had complications throughout the pregnancy, but kept trying. I wasn't there. I got the call a few hours after he was born that she was…gone and that I had a baby." He smiled sadly. "Sometimes, I really wish she hadn't died, but then I wonder if I'd ever have met my son if she didn't."

"Can I ask why you were with her? You and Peter… You look so in love with him, so I don't understand."

"Drunken one night stand," Neal said solemnly. "Picked her up at a bar, we went to her place, and bam. Nicky was conceived." Michael chuckled quietly. "She was sweet, beautiful. I don't see a whole lot of her in Nick."

The door in the living area flew open. Neal stood up quickly, watching Peter's reaction, which was surprisingly relaxed. "Oh, Suit." Neal sighed in relief. "Where's mon frère?"

Neal laughed, motioning for Michael to come with him. "Right here, Moz." He stepped out of Nick's room with Michael, stunning Mozzie instantly. He was mouthing something about a threesome, pointing at Peter and Michael and Neal just glared. "Dick," Neal muttered. "Look at him."

Mozzie did. His eyes bugged out. "He looks like a clone! See, Neal? The Hitler clones could be real!" Neal rolled his eyes and Peter stifled a laugh at the kitchen table. "You think I'm crazy. Just you wait, mon frère. When I discover his clones, you'll rue the day you doubted me."

"Oh, I'm sure I will," he said teasingly. "This is my younger brother, Michael."

"Which surname?" Neal gave him a pointed look. "I see." He stepped closer to Michael, observing him closely. "Welcome, Neal-clone."

"Mozzie is obsessed with conspiracy theories. He doesn't understand that genetics could have a hand in our appearances." Michael chuckled, finding Mozzie amusing. Neal noticed Peter cleaning up his lunch and glanced at his watch. "Fuck. Do you have to go back?"

Peter took the plate to the sink and nodded. "Yeah. I've got a few things to wrap up, then I'll grab Nick and come home." Neal walked over to him and threw his arms around Peter's midsection, sighing. "It's only a few hours," Peter said teasingly, circling his arms around Neal. "Besides, you have good company until I get back." He kissed Neal's hair. "Take your brother out for a bit. See if you two can relate to anything." Neal nodded silently. "You okay?" he asked, sliding a hand down Neal's back.

"Yeah, Peter. I just miss you when you make me stay home."

The older man chuckled. "Well, you seem to be walking around better now. After today, if you want to start working fulltime again, you probably could." He squeezed Neal gently. "All right, sweetheart. I really do have to get going now though. Jones and Diana are waiting for me."

"Fine," Neal sighed. He tilted his head up to look at Peter, who kissed him as he'd been hoping. "Love you, Peter. See you when you get home."

"See you then," he whispered, kissing Neal once more before taking his leave. Neal smiled, watching him go. He wished they'd had more time—and privacy, but they spend at least ninety-seven percent of their time together as it is, so they could probably use a bit more socializing.

"So, big brother…" Neal glanced back at Michael. "Mozzie tells me you're an art aficionado."

Neal grinned. "Yeah. I haven't done much of my own work in a while. I sketch here and there, but I love going to the Met."

"What's your most recent work?"

He bit his lip, considering telling Michael that it was in the sketchbook his father destroyed, but that wasn't true. The last thing he'd done was in his newest sketchbook, but he decided on showing off Peter's Christmas gift. He walked over to the cupboard and pulled two mugs down. "I painted these for Peter. I ran out of money and this was all I could afford to get him for Christmas."

Michael stepped closer to observe them and looked impressed. "Wow. Those sure aren't stick figures." Neal laughed. "If you didn't tell me you'd painted them, I'd think they were done professionally." He glanced at his brother in surprise. "Not that you aren't a professional or anything, but… Wow. Awesome. I just met you today and I've already insulted you."

Neal shook his head, laughing again. "No worries. I'm not a professional, but I'm glad you think these are good. Peter really liked them. I think he's got one at work, actually."

"You think those are good? You should see his sketches." Neal gave Mozzie an exasperated look when Michael turned away from him. "His first sketchbook's life came to an abrupt end not too long ago, but… Suit bought him a new one." Neal's face flushed. "By Suit, I mean Peter," he clarified. He crossed over to Neal and Peter's bedroom, motioning for Michael to follow. He reached into the dresser's top drawer and pulled Neal's sketchbook out, flipping through it quickly. "Neal's mind is a bit perverse when it comes to sketching, but he's damn good."

"Moz, those are private," Neal whispered.

Mozzie nodded, finding a particular sketch he liked. "Look at this." Neal's heart leapt into his throat. He found himself hoping that Mozzie wasn't showing him one of his nude-Peter sketches. He crossed the room to look at the sketchbook and was instantly relieved. It was a perfectly innocent sketch, one of Peter. He remembered waking up before Peter one morning to find him in an absolutely perfect position. It made him look so much like a god and he couldn't help sketching.

Michael looked extremely impressed now. "This is amazing. Your details are phenomenal."

"I love drawing Peter," he muttered, embarrassed to have his sketches out in the open. Peter saw them, of course, but most of them were of Peter to begin with. He considered the sketches to be intimate since Peter gave him permission to sketch him after they'd finished making love at times. He was grateful that Mozzie hadn't shown those to Michael, but now a third pair of eyes had seen them nonetheless.

"I've commented on his work whenever he's shown it to me," Mozzie said proudly. "He's very talented, considering he never took any classes." Michael's eyes widened at that. "He's more than just good looks and a sexy voice." Neal raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Peter says it and you don't give him that look," Mozzie muttered under his breath.

Neal rolled his eyes. "Because Peter's my partner. He's allowed to tell me what he thinks of my looks and voice. You, however, lack that authorization, Haversham."

"Sticks and stones," Mozzie said, shrugging. "I consider Neal to be _my_ younger brother. He's a real pain in the ass at times, as I'm sure you'll see if you stick around."

Michael chuckled. "I'll be here as long as you're okay with it," he said to Neal, his eyes flashing. Neal felt odd for a moment, like he was looking at himself at sixteen, given the exception that Michael's eyes were green and his hair was more of a dirty blonde.

Neal blinked and nodded. "Of course." He assumed Michael would probably go back to their mother and avoid him entirely once Adler's trial began. All of the details would come out and Michael would probably look at his older brother like he was a common whore. At least, that's how Neal imagined things would happen. Peter would tell him differently, as always. After all, he'd been wrong about Peter. When he'd told Peter, he thought the older man would be disgusted with him, but they'd only grown closer. He didn't know Michael well enough to make that kind of determination yet though. Things would just have to play themselves out over time.

If things didn't go well, Neal's life would be as it always was. His mother would resent him, his step-father and step-brother would be in prison, his half-brother would side with their mother, and he'd have his own little family to support him while his blood family turned him away. "Mon frère?" Neal looked at Mozzie, realizing he'd been asking a question. The look the shorter man gave him was full of concern and he knew they'd probably talk about it later, after Michael left. "Do you want to take a trip to the Met while we have freetime?"

Neal looked at his brother, who looked hopeful. Michael must have made a suggestion about it while he'd been lost in his own thoughts. "Sure." As soon as he answered, Michael grinned at him. Maybe Michael would stick around after everything came out, he thought.

He went to his bed and grabbed his fedora, putting it on. Peter made fun of him for it at times, but he also thought it looked sexy. He liked to look sexy for Peter, so he tried to wear it as much as he could around him. Work, home, while they were out… He took it with them and Peter would just shake his head and smile. "Nice hat," Michael commented, linking his arm with Neal's as though they'd never been apart from one another. Neal only smiled. It wasn't like he'd ever had a sibling to get close to. Not in this way anyway. He found himself liking the idea of having a brother look up to and want to spend time with him. Peter would be thrilled to hear about this later.


	24. Chapter 24

Peter and Neal were on a lunch break in the _Taurus_ after solving another mortgage fraud case earlier in the morning. Neal made deviled-ham sandwiches for Peter before they left home and bought himself a bagel. Peter insisted that it wasn't lunch material, but Neal rolled his eyes and said he wasn't all that hungry as it was. "So…how are things with Michael? You two were on the phone for a while last night."

Neal nodded, taking a drink of coffee before responding. "He was telling me that mom was home. He didn't want to keep me out of the loop even though he knows how I feel about her." Peter gave him a small smile. He encouraged Neal to reach out to Michael, encouraged them to form a bond, and it seemed to be working thus far. "It's so strange, you know?" He glanced at Peter, looking a bit surprised. "I met my brother for the first time a couple weeks ago and it honestly feels like we've known each other all our lives. He's so…so easy to talk to, Peter."

"I'm really glad you two are getting along," Peter said softly. "It's nice to see you so happy."

Neal's brows furrowed. "I can't tell if you're upset with me or not. I know I haven't been—"

Peter hushed him before he could say anything else. "I'm not upset, sweetheart. Not by any means. I truly am glad to see you two getting to know each other." He reached over and poked Neal's stomach, making the younger man laugh. "And you haven't been ignoring me either. You're just the way you've always been. You're a great probie partner at work, sexy and sweet partner at home, and always wonderful in bed." He winked at Neal, who grinned in response. "You're allowed to talk to other people, Neal," he teased.

"I know, I know." Neal laughed, shaking his head. "I'm not used to having actual family talk to me. Mom probably hates me. I've never seen nor spoken to my father. Michael is great. Kind of reminds me of Nicky at times."

Peter smiled at the comparison. "The same could be said about you. I do watch when you guys play games, Neal." Peter bought Nicky a Wii system for his tenth birthday—after coercing Neal into agreeing rather than arguing—and he had a lot of fun with it. Neal and Michael seemed to have just as much fun.

"You owe us a _Just Dance_ match, Peter." The older man shook his head. "Oh, come on. You watched me make a fool of myself. Please?"

He laughed. "Watching you dance to 'Wannabe' was strangely erotic. If we don't do that dance, I may consider it. I'm not a Spice Girls fan, but your sexy self… Oh, God."

Neal smirked. "You were jacking off when you went into the bathroom, weren't you?" Peter blushed and Neal laughed, throwing his head back a bit. "Peter, that particular dance brought out _all_ of the gay in me."

"I literally saw flames." They both chuckled, smiling at each other. "It was hot, no joke. If you ever feel compelled to dance naked for me, just do that."

"Oh, I'll keep that in mind. I'll talk to Trent's mom and arrange a sleepover." Peter leaned closer to him, wanting a kiss, but Neal shook his head. "Not after you ate that sandwich." Peter gave him puppy dog eyes and Neal looked away to attempt resisting. As soon as he glanced back at Peter, he leaned over to kiss him. "Yuck," he teased. "You taste better with _me_ than you do with the sandwich."

Peter's eyebrows went up as he laughed. "You like your own—"

"Shut up. Who kisses—_French_ kisses me after I suck them off?"

"Touché." Neal grinned. "I'll do one dance with you soon."

Neal's eyes lit up. "Promise?"

Peter arched an eyebrow. "You wouldn't know that you're about a week and a half away from thirty-three after hearing that."

The younger man shrugged. "I could've asked for a pinkie promise." That gave him an idea. "How about we seal it with a kiss?" Peter shook his head, muttering something about Neal being a dork, and kissed Neal sweetly.

They continued eating in silence for a couple of minutes until Peter asked, "Michael is Vincent's son, right?" At Neal's nod, he went on, "Do you know how he was…raised? I mean, did he do to him what he did to you?"

"I don't think so. Michael talks about his father the way I talk about Nick—affectionately. If he'd been raped or was getting raped, I don't think he'd speak so reverently. I certainly wouldn't." Peter reached over, taking Neal's hand. He intertwined their fingers, watching Neal's face. "I think it's because Michael is his blood-son. I'm not his son by blood, so he probably found raping me easier to live with and more entertaining."

Peter's stomach churned just thinking about how Adler treated Neal. He hadn't been given the details, but it wasn't all that hard to figure out. He lifted Neal's hand, kissing the back of it. Neal gave him a small smile. "Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you at my side?"

The smile touched Neal's eyes and it warmed Peter's heart. "Once or twice," he whispered.

"If I didn't have you, I wouldn't know how to feel this happy," Peter said. "Every time I look at you, I'm proud of you for surviving all that you've gone through and I know I'm very fortunate to have you with me after all of it."

Neal's eyes watered and he started blinking rapidly. "That means a lot to me, Peter."

Peter smiled at him, squeezing his fingers. He was about to tell Neal how much _he_ meant to him, but his phone started ringing. Neal glanced down at Peter's pocket when Peter let go of his hand to pull the phone out. "Burke," he said upon answering. He listened intently for a few moments before asking, "Can you describe him to me?" Peter rested his left elbow on the door, holding his face in his palm. "All right. Thanks, Jones. I'll be there in a few."

He hung up and Neal gave him a curious look. "What's up?"

"Mozzie may have gotten himself into a bit of trouble."

•◊•

Neal stood behind Peter with his arms crossed, on the brink of sighing heavily. "I was merely there on behalf of—"

"Mozzie, we have your prints on the gun." Mozzie was silent. "Neal, what do you think?"

Peter looked up at him as Neal bit his lip. The very last thing he wanted to do was implicate his best friend, but all things seemed to point to Mozzie. "Mozzie isn't a killer. We both know he doesn't like Feds, but he wouldn't try to kill them, Peter. I was shot at—" He could remember going to the alleyway with Peter, finding the crowbar and gun. He felt the shot through his shoulder and the scar seemed to burn a bit. "Mozzie wouldn't shoot at a Fed."

"I don't like guns," Mozzie said petulantly. "I spend quality time with you two, so I have no reason to have it out for the Suits." Neal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There's no proof that I fired any shots either."

Peter shook his head. "Your prints were on the gun and you had gunshot residue on your hands when we brought you in." Mozzie looked away from Peter, completely avoiding eye contact with Neal since the two of them came through the glass doors. "They've got you on murder, Mozzie. That gun was linked to the murder of at least six agents and the attempted murder of two. One of those two being _Neal._"

Mozzie gave him an annoyed glance before looking away again. "Do you really think I'd attempt to kill Neal?"

Neal sighed exasperatedly. "Nobody knows what to think, Moz. That's the problem. I know you wouldn't kill me or _try_ to kill me, but what about the others? They were following a suspect in homicide cases and most of them ended up dead. The agent that was killed today was in the same area as you were. You were actually in the building the shot _came_ from." Peter watched the two men as they stared each other down until Mozzie looked away. Neal moved towards the table, slamming his palms down on it. "Damn it, Mozzie. Just tell us who shot the damn gun. Withholding information isn't going to get you any favors."

"Neal—"

"I don't know who shot it, Neal," Mozzie said angrily. "I never saw the guy, all right? I'm not purposely trying to lie to you. I wouldn't do that to you."

Something in Neal's expression made Peter jump up and push Neal's chest, backing him away from the table. "Then how the hell do you explain the gunshot residue? You were there. You held the gun, left your prints on it. If you didn't shoot it, your hands would be clean. They _aren't_ and you're not telling us something crucial here. I know it."

Mozzie looked at him blankly, not giving him any of the answers he was looking for. "I have no further comment to make to you, Agent Caffrey."

Neal's eyes hardened. "Neal, I'll talk to him," Peter said quietly, quiet enough so that only Neal could hear him.

"He's my friend, Peter. I—"

"I'll talk to him," he repeated. Peter noticed how tense Neal's jaw became and he could see the anger in his eyes. "You need to go calm down." He didn't want Neal thinking he was taking him completely out of the loop, but he wanted Neal to understand that this would be taken care of.

Neal's nostrils flared when he looked at Mozzie then back at Peter. "Fine." Peter tried to grab his shoulder to tell him he'd be right out after he finished up, but Neal stormed out, pushing the glass doors open harshly.

Peter sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "I don't like this any more than he does, Moz." He turned back to the shorter man. "Are you certain you didn't see who the gun belonged to? Who shot it?"

"I know exactly who it was." Peter looked stunned. He was about to say something, but Mozzie cut him off. "I needed Neal to step out because he knows her." Peter sat down across from Mozzie, his brows furrowed. "Her name is Alex Hunter. She's had it out for the Feds since they killed her fiancé. It was ten years ago. She and Kate were friends, so she met Neal once or twice. I think they hit it off after his one-night fling with Kate ended."

"Kate… Nick's mom?" Mozzie nodded. "If she knows Neal, why would she shoot him?" Mozzie gave him a pointed look and he looked down to see Mozzie staring at his badge. "She knew he was working to become an FBI agent?"

Mozzie nodded. "He was trying to get into NYPD at first. They didn't let him in and he never told me why, but then he set off to work for the FBI and she got wind of that. Their friendship ended shortly thereafter and she promised she wouldn't hesitate to take action if she saw him in the field."

"All right. She's in possession of the gun and shot it, but that doesn't explain how you got residue on your hands."

"I tried to stop her, Suit." Peter nodded slowly. "Try to keep this from Neal. I'm asking as his friend. He doesn't need to know that he was shot by her a year ago."

Peter stood up. "I'll…tell him as much as I can. I don't want him thinking I'm taking him off the case." Mozzie nodded, frowning. "They're going to lock you up until the trial takes place. Assuming your story checks out, you may not get locked up. I don't want to make any promises."

"Thanks, Suit."

He nodded silently, leaving the interrogation room to nod at the officer standing outside that was waiting to escort Mozzie out. As soon as he rounded the corner and was heading towards the bullpen, he froze. Neal was leaning against the exterior glass of the interrogation room. It scared him to see how neutral Neal looked. Neal turned towards him and gave him a shrug. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go get her."

Peter swallowed, motioning for Neal to follow him. They'd looked Alex up in the database and found her sitting in a safe house in Brooklyn. Jones and Diana made the arrest while he stayed behind with Neal, who wasn't talking to him just yet. He hoped Neal wasn't upset with him, figuring he was definitely upset with Mozzie.

By the time they'd finished work for the day, Neal assured him that he was fine, even confiding in Peter that he thought Alex needed mental help regardless. Once they were outside, Neal asked if he could drive and Peter was more than happy to let him.

Neal drove down to Nicky's school and went inside to get him while Peter waited in the car. As soon as they came back, Peter could see how excited Nicky was about something. When Nicky got into the car, he kept talking. "I got a hundred on my test, Peter!" Neal shut the door and went to get into the driver's seat. "I spelled everything right!"

Peter grinned. "Good job, buddy," he said as Neal buckled himself up. "I'm very proud of you." Nicky leaned forward to hand the skinny paper to Peter. He looked it over and grinned. Neal glanced over and smiled. "This will go up on the refrigerator, won't it, sweetheart?"

"Of course," Neal said instantly. "We're both very proud of you."

Nicky told Peter all about his day, how he and Trenton won the game they'd played in their gym class and how he'd talked to a girl he had a crush on. Neal only smiled, listening to the two of them as he drove. It always made him happy to listen to Nicky treating Peter like his other father.

As soon as they'd gotten into June's house, she told them they had a guest upstairs. Peter had his hand in his jacket as he led the three of them upstairs, ready to pull his gun if need be. Peter and Neal knew not to expect Mozzie for a little while, so they weren't sure who would be dropping by at first. Neal unlocked the door, Peter standing at his side protectively. Peter was the first to enter and he immediately turned towards the sitting area. "Oh. Hey, Michael."

"Uncle Mike!" Nicky ran in and over to him, jumping into his lap eagerly.

"Hey, Nick." He laughed, hugging the little boy. When Nicky got off of him to go put his backpack away and change out of his school clothes, he looked at the older men. "Hey, Peter, Neal."

Neal could hear something in his voice and his brows furrowed. "Everything all right?"

Michael shook his head, clasping his hands together. "I needed to talk to you. June said it would be all right if I waited up here." Neal nodded, taking his jacket off. Peter snatched the fedora before Neal could walk away with it still on and Neal mock-glared at him. He laid his jacket over the back of the couch and went to sit down in his favorite chair. "I went to see my dad today." Neal stiffened, feeling Peter's eyes on him as he did so.

"Did he… What did he say to you?"

"He told me he beat Nicky." Michael swallowed, his hands tightening around each other. Neal's stomach churned as he watched his brother's eyes shift away from him. "He told me what he did to you." Neal started to stammer something, but Michael stood up and he froze instantly, watching the younger man. "I'm disgusted with him. I didn't believe it at first, but he kept saying it… He sounded _proud_ of it." He looked down at Neal. "I can't imagine how much hell you've been through."

Neal stood up, his eyes watering. "Michael, I didn't want you to know that he—" Michael surged forward and pulled Neal into a tight hug. Neal's eyes widened, his arms awkwardly positioned around his brother at first. After a few moments, he hugged Michael.

The younger man started trembling against him, sniffling. "I'm sorry, Neal." Neal didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected this. He definitely didn't think Adler would ever admit to it, especially not to Michael. Now that Michael knew, he was afraid the relationship they'd built over the last couple of weeks would fall apart. "I went home and talked to mom," he whispered against Neal's shoulder. "I can't believe she _knew._"

"Michael, I've moved past it. It's been seventeen—"

"No. Don't tell me that, Neal. Please." He pulled away, holding his brother's sides, tears sliding down his face. "What he did to you is unforgivable. He…made you run away. I never got to know you because of him. Mom didn't do anything and I hate her for it." Neal was awkwardly clasping Michael's forearms when Michael squeezed his midsection. "I knew about you all my life, but no one ever told me you ran because you were scared that he'd do it again."

Neal swallowed hard, nodding. "I was terrified," he admitted. "I let it go on far too long and there was no escape from it. No escape that wouldn't change my life entirely." Peter was standing near the kitchen sink after using a magnet to put Nicky's test on the fridge, ready to comfort Neal if he needed to. He didn't want to interfere in what was going on between the two of them, but he loved Neal above all else and wouldn't abandon him when he was hurting. They were carefully discussing this, knowing that Nicky could waltz back into the room at any moment. "Don't hate them, Michael. They took care of you. They—"

"They let you go!" he cried out, making Neal flinch. "They made me think you ran away because of me. When you told me that you didn't even know about me, I knew something was wrong—really wrong. Neal, I can't go back to either of them and love them like I did yesterday. I can't look mom in the eyes and talk to her as if she's not as much a monster as my dad is."

"Michael, please…" Neal was pleading with him. Peter didn't understand why. He knew how Neal felt about both his mom and Adler, so why would he try to persuade Michael to _not_ hate them?

Michael took Neal's hands in his, holding them tightly. "You're my brother, Neal. I love you even though we haven't known each other very long. I can't go back to them. I can't live with them, knowing what they put you through." Neal's lips were trembling ever so slightly, his fingers curling around Michael's. "Mom knew about it and she didn't try to find you. She didn't try to help you. If I knew what he'd done to you, I would've looked for you myself instead of waiting. Dad told me you were in New York. He just…didn't know where in New York."

Neal looked away for a moment, blinking his tears away. He didn't want to fall to pieces. He was more than happy to know that his brother was on his side, but he didn't want Michael to live like he had to. Michael's almost sixteen. Neal had been sixteen when he'd run away to live on his own. "I'm sorry that you had to find out like this," Neal said tightly. "I didn't want you to know at all because…because I didn't want you to look at me and think I'm fucked up." He shut his eyes tightly, breathing heavily. "I don't want you to leave," he whispered, "and I was afraid you would once you realized how fucked up I really am."

"I don't want to leave you," Michael said firmly. "You left everyone behind when you ran. You were on your own, Neal. I know you have Peter, Nick, and Moz, but I don't want you to live without some connection to us. I don't want to live without you anymore." He held Neal's hands at chest level until Neal finally looked at him again, his pale blue eyes filled with tears. "I want my brother," Michael said sincerely.

Neal let a sob rip through him before pulling Michael into another tight hug, his right hand cradling his brother's head. He closed his eyes and relaxed against the younger man. He hadn't felt this relieved and grateful since he'd opened up to Peter.

•◊•

Peter traced patterns over Neal's chest absently. It was two in the morning and Neal hadn't been able to get to sleep. He kept tossing and turning until he eventually gave up and just stared at the ceiling. Peter woke up with him even though Neal apologized and told him to go back to sleep. They hadn't been able to make love with Michael right there on the couch, but Peter was really considering it as a suggestion if it got Neal to sleep. "I never thought so many people would find out," Neal commented in the darkness. "Telling you was a big step for me."

Neal sighed, gently grabbing Peter's hand. He held Peter's palm against his chest, stroking Peter's fingers. "This just goes to show you that people do love you despite your past," Peter said softly. "We aren't disgusted by you. We hate what happened to you. _I_ loathe what he did to you and I'd love to have the opportunity to shoot him in the face." Neal chuckled. "Killing him would be a mercy," he muttered. "He doesn't deserve it after that. Neal, I know very few people who can live their lives as close to normal as you do after being raped. Some people commit suicide. Others might end up in solitary confinement. Emotional instability after that kind of trauma is…difficult to live with."

"I thought about that when I ran away. I was sixteen and thinking about killing myself." He rolled over so Peter could hold him close. "I know there are a lot of teenagers who commit suicide out there and I knew I didn't want to become one of them. I wanted to try to build a life for myself and I'm glad I did."

Peter kissed his forehead, smiling. "We _all_ are. Nick wouldn't be here, Michael wouldn't get to know his brother, and me… I wouldn't have found my one, true love." Neal sighed contentedly, his warm breath caressing Peter's skin. "A life without Neal Caffrey in it would be very bleak, admittedly." He imagined Neal's smile at that particular moment and it made him smile. "People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed," he whispered. "Never throw out anyone."

Neal laughed quietly, a deep and beautiful sound in the darkness to Peter's ears. "Audrey Hepburn," he whispered in response. "I'm surprised to see you finally joining the game."

"I've been reciting that quote since you told me about it. I lay here beside you at night and tell myself I'm so grateful to whoever watched out for you up there because I love you more than I can even begin to tell you."

Neal curled up closer to Peter, nuzzling his face against Peter's shoulder. "I love you," he whispered after he'd finally gotten comfortable. Peter stroked Neal's bare skin until he heard the younger man snoring softly.


	25. Chapter 25

Peter woke up early, sitting up with his back against the headboard. He stared at Neal, smiling eagerly. Today was his lover's birthday. He couldn't wait for him to get up. Nicky came out of his room, rubbing his eyes, and Peter glanced over at him. "Is daddy still sleeping?" Peter nodded and Nicky retreated into his room for a moment, coming out with the gift he'd picked out for Neal with Peter. He padded over to the bedroom and set the present down on the nightstand beside Neal. Peter chuckled, knowing Neal was exhausted. They'd fallen asleep on the wrong sides of the bed last night. That's how exhausted they were. "Should we wake him up?" Michael was beginning to stir on the couch, stretching out.

"I don't know. It's still pretty early. Think daddy wants to wake up at eight?" Nicky shrugged, walking over to the couch to sit in front of Michael's stomach. Peter sighed, smiling at his lover. He started rubbing Neal's back slowly, his fingertips gliding over the warm skin with feather-light touches. Neal's shoulders shifted and he let out a moan, followed by Peter's name. Peter chuckled. "I'm not sure if you're awake or dreaming, sweetheart."

Neal smiled, his eyes still closed. "Both," he said quietly. He scooted closer to Peter, kissing the older man's chest, his hand tracing over the muscles of Peter's abdomen. When Neal's fingers slowly moved south, Peter cleared his throat. Neal's eyes slowly opened and he looked up at Peter sleepily.

Peter was smiling sweetly at him. "Happy birthday, Neal." He leaned down as Neal pushed himself up and they met each other for a sweet, brief kiss. He glanced over Peter's shoulder and saw his brother and son sitting on the couch, smiling at him. "I'll distract. You get dressed," Peter said teasingly, kissing Neal's nose. Neal smirked when Peter slid out of the warm bed. "Come on, you two. Give him a few minutes to wake up." Michael chuckled and Nicky nodded, following Peter over to the kitchen area.

Michael waggled his eyebrows at Neal, who mock-glared at him. "You, too, kid," he said, tilting his chin towards Peter, telling Michael to get going. Michael only shook his head, getting up to go to the sink. Neal, with the blanket still covering him, leaned over the side of the bed to search for his boxers. "Damn it, Peter," he muttered. He finally found them and glanced behind him before getting out of bed to pull them on. He quickly grabbed his sleeping pants and decided that was as dressed as he needed to be on a Sunday morning.

He saw the gift on the nightstand and smiled. The wrapping paper was a sign that it was from Nicky almost immediately. He'd open it in a little bit, after they all had breakfast. Michael stepped closer to him once Neal started heading towards the rest of them, and pulled his older brother into a hug. "Happy birthday, big brother." Neal hugged him tightly, grinning when they separated.

Peter was making them all scrambled eggs, which Neal didn't mind. He would've liked waffles or pancakes, but eggs were just as good. Besides, Peter was making it for him and that meant more. Nicky hugged Neal next, instead lingering close to him to hold his hand afterwards. Peter glanced over his shoulder at one point and found himself staring at a lovebite he'd left on Neal's chest. When Neal realized that, he blushed. They'd been a bit rough at Neal's insistence, but still had to be as quiet as possible with Michael not all that far away.

Peter dished the eggs out for everybody and was carrying them to the table, setting them down. Neal grabbed the last two plates after Nicky darted over to the table to grab his plate. Peter met Neal halfway and kissed the younger man passionately. If Michael and Peter both hadn't grabbed one plate from his hands, he definitely would have dropped them because he threw his arms around Peter's neck. Neal's lips opened and Peter took advantage of that. They were both so wrapped up in each other and that hadn't been Peter's first intention with Michael and Nicky right there. His free arm was circled around Neal, holding Neal against him.

He was hesitating to pull away from Neal. He really didn't want to stop kissing him, but they needed to calm down before Neal started ripping their clothes off in front of the family. That wasn't exactly polite. Peter stepped back, gently pushing Neal's shoulders to keep him back. "Hey, tiger," he said breathlessly, smiling at how bruised and delightfully pink Neal's lips looked and how flushed he was. He could see the lust in his eyes and it was even more obvious if one were to look at the tent forming in the front of his pants. "Save me some of that for later," he whispered with a wink.

Neal slowly released Peter, smiling at him. "I'm expecting something spectacular," he said quietly in response. Peter's next answer was simply Peter's hands slipping around Neal's waist and then sliding down to grab his ass. He had to stifle a moan and Peter winked again.

They sat down to eat breakfast and it was all really nice. Nicky was asking Peter if he'd gotten tickets to the Yankees game coming up and if Peter still planned on taking him out to a field to play baseball sometime soon. Neal wasn't into that kind of thing and assumed Nicky wasn't either, but he was happy to let Peter take over that part. "Daddy, are you going to play with us, too?"

"Of course. Peter has to teach me how to play though. Daddy sucks at sports." They all chuckled and Peter slid his hand across the table until Neal took it in his.

Neal helped Peter clean up all of the dishes after breakfast, humming quietly beside his lover as they hand washed and dried the plates. Just as Neal finished drying the last plate, someone knocked on the door. He dried his hands and went to open it. "Happy birthday!" two women said sweetly once it was open. Elizabeth and Diana were standing there, grinning at him.

He chuckled. "Come in, both of you," he said, gesturing for them to come inside. He hugged them both individually and Elizabeth pecked his cheek.

"Having a good birthday so far, sweetie?" she asked, taking his hand in hers. She glanced over at Peter, raising an eyebrow. "I hope he didn't burn breakfast for you," she teased. Peter blushed and walked away, which made El and Neal giggle.

"Peter made some great scrambled eggs for us. Nobody's got food poisoning yet." Peter scowled at him and Neal gave him one of his most innocent smiles. Michael was looking the two women up and down, trying to gauge how much Neal trusted them. "Oh, ladies, I never had the chance to introduce you." He motioned for Michael to come closer. "This is my brother, Michael. Michael, this is Peter's ex-wife, Elizabeth, and her girlfriend, Diana."

Michael's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Wow. You've got quite the extended family," Michael said quietly, hugging both women. "It's a pleasure to meet you two. I've heard plenty about you both." At their inquisitive looks, Michael added, "All good things. I promise."

All of the adults chatted while Nicky sat in one of the chairs in the sitting area, playing on his DS. They eventually went to sit over there with him so he wasn't all by himself. El and Diana brought Neal a gift and he set it down on the bed, promising to get to opening everything soon. He finally pulled a shirt on, figuring he should dress appropriately now that he had actual guests rather than family—though they were all starting to feel like family more and more each day. The two ladies pulled up chairs and sat close together while Peter sat on the couch, holding his arms out for Neal. Neal sat on his lap, smiling when Peter wrapped his arms around his waist, and Michael sat beside them. "No Mozzie?"

"Not for a little while, no. He got himself into trouble. Until that mess is all sorted out, he's either in prison or gone to ground."

El nodded slowly. "I haven't had a chance to see either of you lately. Premiere Events has taken off very well in the last couple of weeks." She took Diana's hand, smiling. "We were thinking about having a double date with you two sometime soon?"

Peter looked up at Neal, who shrugged. "I don't see why that would be a problem. Peter owes me a date."

"Oh, do I?" Peter asked, an eyebrow rising as he kept watching his lover.

Neal smirked down at him. "Yes, you _do._ You blew me off for the van for an entire night." Realization dawned on Peter then. They'd been together for six months as of February twenty-eighth and he _had_ blown Neal off for it, even though he told him an hour in advance. He promised he'd make up for it at some point. In exactly a week, they'd be celebrating seven months together. That seemed like a great opportunity for a double date. After all, it was El who'd released him and encouraged his relationship with Neal. The least he could do was wine and dine them both—plus Diana. "I need to find a babysitter, assuming Moz will be unavail—"

"I could do it." Everyone glanced at Michael. Neal took a moment to think about it, then nodded. "You trust me to take care of my nephew?" he asked quietly, sounding hurt.

"You're my brother," is how Neal responded. Of course he trusted Michael. He never looked at Nicky strangely or tried to get Nicky alone. Nicky was comfortable around him and Neal, quite frankly, was as well. Michael gave him a small smile, which Neal returned. "Next week okay?" Peter startled, stunned that he and Neal were thinking the same thing. He supposed that with all the time they spent together, they should be on the same wavelength.

Michael nodded. "Sounds fine. I'll have him in bed by the time you set since it'll be a school night."

Neal chuckled. "Thanks, Michael."

The younger man bit his lip for a moment, looking away from Neal. When he looked at his brother again, he said, "Neal, just call me Mike. Michael sounds too formal—especially for family." His gaze shifted to Peter and he nodded at him, telling him he had the same permission. Both men nodded, giving him a small smile.

Nicky set his DS down and turned to his father. "Presents now, daddy?"

"Sure, kiddo." He was about to get up to grab them from the bedroom, but Nicky was faster. He brought El and Diana's gift as well as his own back to Neal. He knew he'd get his gift from Peter later. Michael got up and leaned over Neal to grab the gift he'd gotten, putting it between the two—three of them, since Neal's on Peter's lap.

"Open mine first!" Nicky pleaded. Neal smiled and grabbed Nicky's, unwrapping it.

"Awe, Nick," he said sweetly, looking over at his son. A picture of him, Nicky, and Peter was inside the frame, which was hand-decorated. He grinned at the little boy. "Thanks, baby. I love it." He leaned forward to set it down on the coffee table and squeezed Peter's knee when he leaned back. That was his silent way of thanking Peter because he knew Peter helped Nicky. He grabbed El and Diana's gift next and he paled once it was open. Peter laughed his ass off when he saw it.

El and Diana had gotten him a huge pack of condoms, with a small note that said '_protection for off-duty surveillance._' "What do you think, sweetie?" El asked with a wink.

Neal gave her a wry smile. "They certainly won't go to waste," he answered, rubbing Peter's knee. Michael was chuckling off to the side and Diana was giving them her best smartass smile. He moved it out of Nicky's line of sight. Michael's gift to him was a membership to the Guggenheim, which thrilled him. He already had a membership at the Met and a conversation with Michael had him admitting he'd been meaning to get one with the Guggenheim, but things always came up when he thought about it. He slid off of Peter's lap, pulling his brother into a hug, murmuring a thank you to him. He crossed the sitting area and picked Nicky up, kissing his forehead. Nicky giggled when Neal said the picture was going to go in a very special place for him to always see. He was surprised by El and Diana's simultaneous hug. He managed to hold them both, but they teased him by grabbing his ass. He yelped, his face going bright red. Both women and Peter laughed. "No cake for you three," he muttered, taking everything into the bedroom. He set the picture down on his nightstand after shifting his clock and book around.

Peter's eyes widened as he shared a look with El and Diana. "I didn't get his cake," he hissed. "Fuck."

"You did at least order it, right?" El asked exasperatedly.

"Of course. I just…just didn't pick it up." He watched Neal and muttered, "Fuck," again, balling his hands up into fists.

"I'll take care of it, honey." When Neal turned around, he relaxed. El said something about distracting him for a little bit so she could grab it, but Peter was still frustrated by the fact that he'd forgotten to pick up his lover's birthday cake. He'd forgotten their dry cleaning on multiple occasions as well and Neal didn't comment on it, taking over his duty to pick it up like it was nothing. Elizabeth hugged Neal and pecked his cheek, telling him she had to run out for something, then she'd come right back.

Everyone was quiet after El left. Neal was in the kitchen, rummaging around the cupboards for something. Nicky and Michael were playing _Just Dance_ again, Diana sitting there as a spectator who eagerly wanted to join in. Neal finally stood up, grinning like he was proud of himself. Peter, cocking an eyebrow, got off of the couch and headed over to him. "What's my birthday boy doing?" he asked teasingly.

Neal shrugged, smiling at him. "It's still early in the day. I figured I could get started on the cake since I didn't want to do it last night." Peter's lips parted and Neal's smile faltered. "Why do you look like I just slapped you?"

"Sweetheart, you don't have to make your _own_ cake. It's your birthday," he muttered, pulling Neal closer to him and away from the countertop. "We're supposed to be spoiling you, not watching you bake for us."

The younger man chuckled. "I know, but I always make my own cake. Hell, I'll do it for your birthday this year, too." He kissed Peter's jaw and tried to move out of Peter's tight hold on him. Raising an eyebrow, he looked up at his lover. "What are you doing, Peter?"

He thought about telling Neal that El went to get the cake since he's an idiot, but figured Neal might actually think he's an idiot, so he chose to go with something else. "I want you." Neal smirked, pressing himself flush against Peter's body. He hadn't expected Neal to react like that so quickly. It was only meant to serve as a distraction. They couldn't use their bedroom with the others right there.

"Do we still have a condom in the bathroom?" Neal asked huskily, kissing Peter's chest.

Peter shivered. "I think so." The bathroom became an alternative lovemaking spot since Michael seemed to have officially moved in on the couch, so they'd started storing condoms in the towel cabinet. "Neal, we—"

"Nobody's going to miss us for a few minutes," Neal said persuasively, tugging Peter along with him as he made a subtle dash for the bathroom. It didn't go unnoticed by Diana and Michael, who both laughed. Neal backed himself into the bathroom, still pulling Peter. "Close and lock the door."

Peter did as he asked, briefly turning away from Neal to do so. As soon as he turned around again, Neal was almost naked, his pants pooling at his ankles and his shirt starting to come over his head. Well, he had suggested this and Neal seemed more than eager to comply. He started stripping his own clothes, watching Neal's eagerness spread to his cock.

Neal opened the towel cabinet and shifted a few towels until he finally found the condom, then he started his search for their lube bottle. Peter watched him, chuckling. "You'd think I'd starved you of sex for months," he said, shaking his head.

"It's my birthday," he murmured, still looking for it. He swore they'd stashed it in the towel cabinet as well, but it wasn't there. "I want you to fuck me until we can't fuck anymore."

Peter shuddered, pleasantly turned on by Neal's dominant side. He hardly ever got to see it in action. Neal preferred to submit and Peter wondered if he would have liked to have the upper hand once in a while. It wasn't something Peter really thought about a lot and he wasn't sure if he wanted Neal doing to him what he does to Neal. It seemed unpleasant and made him feel guilty when Neal would cry, which happened when he was particularly rough for a few moments or if Neal was overly emotional, which was the reason more often than not. He figured Neal would make for the perfect woman, but chose not to be sexist. After all, El was pretty damn strong. She and Neal could both be emotional, but El reined it in a lot more than Neal did at times. Neal was starting to get better at calming down before breaking down now though and he figured Adler's arrest had done that for him. "You're so sexy," he mumbled.

"Not going to be very sexy if I can't find the lube," he muttered. He groaned, then sighed. Peter was about to suggest that they just wait until later, but Neal seemed to have gotten an idea. He started opening the condom and turned towards Peter.

"I'm not willing to hurt—" Neal shook his head, getting down on his knees in front of Peter. "Thought I was supposed to be pleasuring you," he added.

Neal flashed a brilliant smile up at him before focusing on rolling the condom onto Peter's cock. "You will. Couldn't find the bottle, so going with the alternative—the theme of the bathroom."

Peter gasped when Neal took him into his mouth. He closed his eyes and his fingers gently weaved through Neal's hair, tugging just as gently. He opened his eyes and was awed by how fantastic Neal looked on his knees, with his cock down Neal's throat. He was wondering if he should be thrusting into Neal's hot mouth when a sudden knock hit the door behind him. He startled and Neal stilled, Peter's cock still in his mouth. "Fairly certain I know what you boys are doing, but El's back," Diana said.

Peter looked down at Neal and his breath hitched. Neal was looking up at him through his lashes, making him look erotic enough for Peter to consider it illegal to look that hot. Sudden thoughts of handcuffing Neal crossed his mind. "To be continued?" he whispered, panting.

Neal pulled back, releasing Peter with an audible slurping sound before nodding. "Add this to your list of things you owe me," he said, chuckling. Peter helped him up, resting his hand on Neal's hip. His thumb caressed the bullet scar he'd left there. "Add _that_ to your list of things to forget."

"That list keeps on growing," he muttered. At Neal's perplexed expression, he shook his head. "Let's just say I'm an idiot in advance."

He stroked the scar on Neal's hip a moment longer before they both dressed themselves. Peter fixed Neal's hair, trying to make it look as though Peter hadn't been combing his fingers through that soft darkness. "So you don't want me to make a cake," Neal prompted as Peter took his hand and opened the bathroom door, leading him down the hallway. "Can I ask why?"

Peter sighed. "I tried to do something nice for you and spectacularly failed, so El had to clean the mess up for me." Neal planted his feet and tugged on Peter's hand, waiting for the older man to turn. "I ordered a cake," he admitted, "and didn't pick it up. It's just like the dry cleaning and the takeout you ask me to bring you on my way home."

"You've got other things on your mind. It's not like I'm mad at you." He gave Peter a soft smile. "So you forget things on occasion—"

"—which happens to be every single one—"

"—I forget things, too. Peter, relax. I'm not going to tell you I want you out of the apartment or that I don't love you anymore just because you didn't get our suits." He grinned. "They're just suits. You come home to me and that's more important. Having you here is more important than the presence of any suit." Peter gave him a grateful smile, kissing Neal to express his gratitude. "Don't tell Moz I said that," he muttered. "He'll finally think he's got a reason to buy me multiple pairs of jeans and sweatpants and rid me of my 'monkey suits.'"

Peter sighed, leaning forward to kiss Neal. "You're always so understanding," he mumbled, his forehead pressed against Neal's.

Neal kissed Peter again. "Because you're so accepting," he replied. He stepped back and smiled at Peter. "Love you. Let's get out there before they come looking for us again."

"I promise you fantastic sex tonight," he whispered before Neal pulled him back into the living area, quietly telling Peter that he would hold him to that declaration.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: The sex scene was removed from this chapter, but is included in the version I've posted on Archive of Our Own.**

The group gathered on the terrace later in the night, seating themselves around the table. El brought the cake out and Peter lit the candles. Neal grinned, getting out of his chair. He gestured for Peter to sit down, which he did, and then he sat on Peter's lap. "Guys, the cake is beautiful." And it truly was. It had a paintbrush at the center with stars at the tip with a smear of multicolor frosting behind them. Nicky sat with Elizabeth, both of them grinning widely. They all sang the birthday song to him and he made his wish, blowing the candles out moments later. Nicky clapped eagerly, making Neal laugh. Peter kissed Neal's shoulder before shifting him. He set Neal down in the seat and went inside to get a knife, silverware, and plates. Neal smirked at Nicky. "You don't get a big piece, baby. It's getting late and you've got school tomorrow."

"But, dad!"

Neal shook his head, looking up at Peter when he reentered. "Daddy didn't say you couldn't have cake, Nick." He took the liberty of cutting the cake, even when Neal stood and offered to do it. Peter just kissed him, licking Neal's lower lip. "This is the least I could do," he muttered. Peter cut the cake up pretty evenly and handed everyone their plates with the silverware already balanced onto it. Neal was still standing when Peter turned towards him. Much to his surprise, Neal dipped his index finger into the cake and smeared frosting on Peter's nose. The older man stared at his lover, his lips parted and eyes widened. Neal was laughing, throwing his head back. "Oh, you little…"

He took both of their plates and set them down on the table, pulling Neal against him. He wrapped an arm around Neal's chest, holding him tight. Neal just kept laughing as he tried to break free, but Peter wouldn't let up. Neal forced Peter forward, and Peter grabbed Neal's cake even as he was arched over the younger man's back. Within mere moments, Neal's face was covered in cake. He snorted and everyone laughed along with them. "That was extreme!"

Nicky was giggling, hand over his mouth. "You started it," Peter muttered. Peter sat down in his chair, pulling Neal onto his lap. "Child," he mumbled as he kissed Neal's shoulder. Neal was laughing as he tried to rub cake out of his eyes and nose. Peter licked Neal's jaw. "You're a God damn mess," he whispered, smirking.

"And all I did was get a little bit of frosting on your _nose._ You coated my entire face with it." He twisted in Peter's arms, throwing his legs over Peter's. Peter wrapped his arm around Neal's back, holding him upright, his other arm draping over Neal's legs.

They all stayed on the balcony for a while after, eating their cake quietly and swapping birthday stories. They all skirted around Neal's darker moments, trying to draw out happy memories. He told them his mom took him to a water park for his tenth birthday. He met a girl there and instantly had what he assumed was a crush on her, which made them all chuckle. "I bet you were an adorable ten year old."

Neal flashed a bright smile at El. "I'd like to think so. Mom always said I was a cute kid. I always had a bunch of ladies commenting on how 'pretty' I was." He shook his head before leaning closer to Peter, kissing the older man's throat. "The earliest birthday I remember is my fifth birthday. It was a cowboy themed party. The boots mom had me wearing were cute."

"Did you have a lasso?" Peter asked, amused.

Neal smirked up at him. "Actually, yes. Roped my preschool friends in for cake with it." That got a giggle out of everyone. "Those birthdays were pretty nice."

"What'd you do for the big twenty-one?" Diana asked, leaning forward with an arched eyebrow.

"Got totally wasted," he said. "Worst hangover ever, by far, and that was the first one." Peter was still occasionally rubbing cake off of Neal's face to eat it, which made Neal chuckle. They all shared the events of their 'sweet sixteens' to include Mike and declared that, by far, Peter's was the most boring. Nicky was starting to fall asleep on El a little after nine after Neal couldn't help smiling. She was stroking his hair gently while talking to Diana. Michael was starting to drift off as well. Neal pushed himself off of Peter, who made a pleading noise while trying to pull him back down. "Need to put the kids to bed," he said, smirking. "Then we'll send El and Di home, which leaves _us_ to entertain ourselves." Peter sighed, nodding. He let go of Neal. Neal walked over to Elizabeth and gently lifted Nicky out of her arms.

When Nicky started to stir as Neal carried him into the apartment and then into his room, he moaned another, "Happy birthday, daddy."

Neal laid Nicky out on the small bed, pulling the blanket over him. "Thanks, Nicky," he whispered, smiling affectionately at his son. He sat down on the bed, rubbing Nicky's back. "I love you, Nick."

"Love you, dad," he mumbled, smiling. Neal stayed where he was, still rubbing his son's back until he was sure Nicky was completely asleep. When he was, Neal leaned forward to kiss Nicky's hair. He pushed himself up off of the bed and turned to find Peter in the doorway, which startled him at first. He heaved a sigh of relief when he walked over to the older man, wrapping his arms around him.

Peter kissed his hair, exhaling softly. "El and Di are getting ready to head out for the night," he whispered. "Thought you might want to say goodbye—respectful host that you are and all."

"Sarcasm noted, Agent Burke," he replied, chuckling.

He led them out of Nicky's room and Peter closed the door just the way Neal usually did. Elizabeth and Diana came inside and smiled at him. "It's getting late, sweetie," Elizabeth said, flashing a smile. "I'm glad we were able to stop in to see you and take up the whole day with you."

He stepped closer to pull her into a hug, kissing her cheek. "You're always welcome to drop by whenever you'd like, El, and thank you. Everyone made this birthday amazing." Diana stepped up once Elizabeth backed off, offering a sweet smile before hugging Neal as well. "I'll walk you down to your car," he said, being a gentleman despite his calling as a woman trapped in a man's body. He gestured for them to precede him and they grinned, El taking Diana's hand in hers. Just before Neal exited the apartment, he turned and whispered, "Condom and lube."

Peter laughed, especially when Neal winked and turned quickly to follow the two women downstairs. Michael came in from the terrace while Peter was looking through Neal's nightstand drawer. "It was nice to see him happy," Michael commented.

The older man straightened up, seating himself on the bed. "I agree. He deserves to have one perfect day—at the very least, that is."

Michael smiled. "So I noticed you didn't give him anything."

Peter shook his head. "You're going to hear it when he comes back."

The smile fell instantly. "Oh, come on. You know, you guys aren't all that quiet to begin with. I appreciate that you try to get him to shut up, but—"

Peter waved him off. "No, no. That's not what I meant. I have a CD for him." Michael looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "I know it's not impressive," he said self-consciously, but I think he'll like it."

The younger man's eyes narrowed as he smirked. "You stalked his Pandora account, didn't you?" Peter shrugged. "Slick. I'm sure he noticed. Not much can really get past him when it comes to you."

"We have the same taste in music. I grabbed some of his favorites in the hopes that he'll play it and think about _us._"

Michael smiled. "So my brother isn't the only sappy romantic here," he teased. Peter grinned. "Want me to sleep in Nick's room tonight and give you guys some…space?"

Both of them heard Neal's footsteps nearing and Peter shrugged. "That's your choice. We're going to do it regardless of where you sleep though." Michael groaned and rolled his eyes, heading over to the fridge to grab a juice box. Neal came back in, smiling. "Did you see the ladies off?"

"Yeah. Made sure they were safe and all. I know they can both kick ass if need be, but I still waited until they were well out of my line of sight before coming up." Peter nodded, gesturing for Neal to join him on the bed. "So what are we going to do for the rest of the night, boys?" Michael laughed and Neal gave him a confused look.

Michael just shook his head. "I'll leave you two to your…" He trailed off, heading into Nicky's room.

Neal raised an eyebrow, turning to face Peter. "Somebody obviously isn't very discrete," he said pointedly, smirking. "So…" he prompted.

"I still have to give you your gift." Neal shrugged, stretching out on the bed. "It'll probably suck in comparison to what you got from everyone else, but I tried." Neal held himself up on his elbows, glaring at Peter. "I promise I didn't do anything expensive, babe. No massively expensive wine bottles this time." He rubbed Neal's thigh, leaning over him to get into his nightstand. He pulled out the CD case and bit his lip. He leaned back and handed it to Neal.

Peter watched Neal's face nervously as the younger man observed the track list. His lips parted as he smiled. His eyes flickered up to meet Peter's and he whispered, "This is perfect, Peter." He pushed himself up and kissed his lover. "You're such an idiot for thinking you could disappoint me," he said, shaking his head. "You filled this CD up with songs I love. I don't need flashy jewelry or any of that expensive shit. This is simple and simply _perfect._"

Neal stared into Peter's eyes, his heart thudding in his chest. "I love you," Peter whispered. "I listened to each song and thought about you."

The younger man, smiled, looking over the list again. '_The Way You Look Tonight_' was listed twice, one version by Frank Sinatra and the other by Michael Bublé. '_Save the Best For Last_' by Vanessa Williams, '_The Moment_' by Kenny G, '_Here and Now_' by Luther Vandross, '_I Wanna Kiss You All Over_ by Exile, '_Another Day in Paradise_' by Phil Collins, '_Every Time You Go Away_' by Paul Young, and '_Baby I'm-a Want You_' by Bread were all listed there.

"You have no idea how much I love this," Neal admitted. He looked up at Peter again, who lifted his hand to stroke Neal's cheek. He closed his eyes, nuzzling his face against Peter's palm. "Let me put the CD in my player and then we'll get started with the rest of tonight. That sound okay?" Neal opened his eyes to see Peter nod, a soft smile on his lips that touched his eyes.

•◊•

Neal carried two cups of coffee up the stairs and into Peter's office, grinning at his lover. Peter was typing away, acknowledging Neal's reentry with a, "Thanks, sweetheart." Neal stood for a moment before tentatively taking a seat, wincing as he sat in the chair. Peter noticed it, his brows furrowing. "Hurting?" Neal nodded slowly. "Oh, Neal…" he whispered apologetically.

The younger man waved it off. "Nothing new," he teased. He leaned forward, setting his coffee down on the desk. "So what's on the agenda for today, my dear Agent Burke?"

"Dinner, just the four of us after work and school?" Neal smiled, nodding. "Good. Other than that, there isn't too much going on thus far. Mondays are so dull." He took a sip of his coffee, making a pleased sound after setting it down. His eyes flickered over to Neal's for a moment and then he smiled wickedly.

Neal, cocking an eyebrow, asked, "Not sure what that's all about, but I'd like to know."

"Thinking about how good your skin tastes in comparison to the mud in the cup."

Neal looked amused. "Well, I'm glad I taste better than _mud._ I'd be really disappointed if I came in second place."

Peter shook his head. "You could never be second best to anything," he muttered. Neal couldn't help feeling giddy after Peter's comment. Peter stopped typing and glanced at Neal for a moment. "I'm glad your birthday was better than last year's."

"Well, I didn't get to make love with the man I was interested in on my birthday last year," he remarked. "Barely knew you for all of three months and wanted to be with you." Peter smiled, reaching his right hand across the desk to take Neal's. He loved the way Neal's eyes flashed when the younger man looked at him.

Just then, the door flew open. Peter and Neal separated their hands and looked at Jones, who burst in looking as though he'd just been running a marathon. "What is it?" Peter asked, rising from his chair.

"We just got a major lead on the Coleman case that went cold a year ago." Peter looked intrigued, stepping around his desk. Before Neal could make any move to stand, Peter's hand dropped to Neal's shoulder, keeping him in his seat. "We have reason to believe that the girl he kidnapped is still alive."

Neal looked up at Peter. He hadn't heard anything about this case before now. "We have significant signs of life?" he asked quickly. Jones nodded. "Do we have a location yet?"

"We're working on it, boss. I've got a team trying to pinpoint the location. The girl made a phone call to her father about twenty minutes ago and he just called in to report it."

Peter squeezed Neal's shoulder. "As soon as we get a location, I want teams swarming the area. We don't know what condition she'll be in or if she's still in danger." Jones nodded as Diana came up the stairs. "Anything?" he asked, holding his breath. She threw a file down on the desk. "Chinatown." He closed his eyes. "Do you know how difficult it's going to be to look through a radius like this?"

Neal stood up. "We need teams down there now," he insisted. "If we have to spread out, we will. She was alive twenty minutes ago. We don't know if we're too late or if we have limited time, but we need to move."

"I want as many agents as we can spare in the area. Jones, get NYPD down there." Jones nodded, taking off to do as Peter asked. "Diana, see if we can narrow the radius down to a few buildings. We can't waste resources and time running all over Chinatown." She immediately left, leaving Peter and Neal. "You and I are heading down there now. We aren't going to wait for this to go to hell." Neal, feeling exactly like Jones and Diana in that moment, nodded, heading back down into the bullpen to grab his jacket, concealing the harness his gun was holstered into. Peter met him at the doors just before the elevator and they rode down together.

"I'm missing a lot of the particulars. I don't remember hearing about this case."

"It went cold before you started working with us." They were heading to the _Taurus_ at a quickened pace. "The girl, Emma Cardinal, was kidnapped just before Christmas. She's five—or was. She's probably almost seven now. The case was cold because we couldn't get leads or suspects. She was just…gone." They got into the car and Peter was immediately driving off as soon as Neal shut the passenger door. Neal quickly pulled his belt on, taking the wheel for a moment so Peter could buckle himself in. "We thought the father might've been involved, but she'd been taken from her school, like Nicky when Adler took him. Coleman had a good alibi. He was working, his wife at a friend's place for lunch."

Neal nodded. His stomach churned when he'd heard the age of the girl. He didn't understand how people could live with themselves after abducting a child. He'd gone borderline insane when his son was taken, but he knew Adler was psychotic and that Adler didn't care what happened to Nicky. "We're going to find this son of a bitch," Neal hissed.

Peter understood Neal's perspective. "Yes, we will." On the way to Chinatown, Neal answered Peter's phone and relayed to Peter the location they'd finally gotten. Peter drove like a madman until they were there. Neal and Peter stayed close to each other, backing each other's movements while they stealthily crept inside. Finding the girl wasn't hard, nor was getting her out. Neal cradled her to his chest when Chester Leslie, Emma's uncle, began firing. Peter was shooting back while Neal quickly helped Emma out of the apartment building. He would've helped Peter, backed him up as much as he could, but Peter told him to get Emma out and he was more than willing to do that.

By the time all the fun was over, several windows had been blown out, the girl was safe, and Leslie was under arrest. Peter made the call to the girl's father and he arrived shortly thereafter to take his daughter home, tears in his eyes as he hugged her close. "I think I could do this more often," Neal said quietly, looking up at Peter as the older man joined him. "I know how it feels to fear for my baby. Reuniting families is one thing I really like seeing."

Peter smiled, taking Neal's hand in his. "Things don't always end well," he said, "but we do our damnedest to get them there. Good work, sweetheart." He squeezed Neal's hand, pulling him along as they went to join their team of agents on the scene.


	27. Chapter 27

"Would you take that damn hat off?"

Neal turned in his seat, his eyebrows rising into his hairline. "Wow," he muttered. "You're extremely cranky this morning. Did I not make your coffee correctly?" Peter glared at him until he conceded, taking the hat off and setting it in his lap. He fidgeted with the edges for a few moments while Peter was surveying the area. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" he asked quietly. When Peter looked at him again, his eyes were hardened and he looked exhausted. Neal felt like he should know what was bothering Peter and it made him feel guilty. "Whatever I did wrong, I'm sorry, Peter. I really don't know what—"

"You lied to me." Neal's eyes widened and he looked as if Peter struck him. He gave it a few minutes, waiting to see if Neal would try to defend himself, but was severely disappointed when Neal looked away. The younger man had no idea what he was being accused of, but he really didn't like the way Peter was looking at him. "First of all, I saw the blood on the sheets." Neal paled, looking at Peter again. "You promised me you'd tell me if I was hurting you the very first time we had sex, Neal."

Neal shook his head. "No, I promised I'd tell you if I wanted you to _stop._ I—"

"And then you saw your mother and lied to me about that, too." Neal froze, carefully regarding his lover. "I had to find out from El that you were absolutely shit-faced because she had to pick you up. Mike tried to cover up for you, told me you weren't feeling well. Neal, I knew you were drunk as soon as you laid down on our bed. When I asked you about it yesterday, you told me the same damn thing Mike did."

"I didn't ask them to lie for me." Peter looked at him as though Neal didn't understand anything he just said. "Yeah, I bled a little. I cleaned up and I'm fine." He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking at the dashboard of the _Taurus._ "She told me she wanted to talk to me. I went to meet her. She gave me a birthday card, subsequently telling me I'm nothing but a bastard. She accused me of taking Adler and Mike from her." He clenched his hands into fists, his breathing erratic. "She told me I'm the reason my dad left us. Peter, she actually said she _wished_ I was dead."

The ice over Peter's heart thawed once he realized Neal was trembling, trying very hard to hold himself together. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked gently, reaching over to touch Neal's thigh.

Neal flinched, gasping. "Because I'm so fed up with being this…" He started making frustrated gestures with his hands. "…this emotional _fuck._ I don't want you to think you have to take care of me at every turn. I don't want to be the one everybody expects to fall apart."

"I don't think that of—"

"Yes, you do." Neal turned towards him then, his eyes red rimmed, jaw clenched as he struggled to keep himself from crying. "I don't know why I'm such a little bitch, but I'm tired of it. I need to change. I can't be this crying whore every time something happens. I got raped. Yeah, so what? That's in the past. My mom actually wishes I was dead. Oh, well. Animosity amongst the family is nothing new. I fuck up every relationship I'm in. That's probably a sign that I'm meant to die alone. Nobody should have to deal with me on a daily basis because I'm high mainten—"

"Stop," Peter said firmly. "Neal, just…stop." Neal nodded, swallowing hard. He shut his eyes tightly, his lips trembling. "You've had so much happen to you. I keep telling you that I—"

"That you're lucky I'm here because I didn't kill myself?" Peter paused for a moment. "Peter, I can't even look at myself in the mirror without being disgusted. I'm such a prissy bit—"

"No, you're not," Peter snapped. "Stop hating yourself, Neal. You were put through…" Peter laughed bitterly. "You were _dragged_ through hell and back, Neal. Not a lot of people can say they survived that. I'm in love with you more and more every day." Neal shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his palms. "I mean that. You're so much more than you think you are. I know the trial is stressing you out. It's in less than a week. Facing Adler, standing before him and defying him, will be terrifying. You don't like taking control often, but you're learning to. When all is said and done with Adler, he'll be behind bars and you'll be safe."

Peter reached over to stroke Neal's hair. "I wonder if everybody would be happier and better off without me," Neal murmured. "My dad might still be with my mom. You could—"

"My life would be miserable without you." Neal glanced at him sadly. "You hate yourself so much, Neal, and I can't understand why. You did nothing wrong. Adler took advantage of you. Your mother is abusing your feelings because she knows it can hurt you. I don't know much about your father to say whether or not he'd still be around, but I know that life wouldn't be worth living if you weren't here." He gave Neal a gentle smile. "You're not weak. You're hurt. All you can do is move past everything that's thrown at you, Neal, and I'm here to support you and get you through it all. Adler's trial will be short. We have proof that Nicky was beaten and that he raped you." Neal gave him a cautious look. "I got the medical files from your doctor. The right people have access to it and it's proof that he hurt you while you were underage. He's not going to make it out of this without a sentence."

Neal was starting to calm down. He'd had an anxiety attack is how he justified acting the way he did. "I'm sorry," Neal said, bowing his head. "I'm sorry for everything."

Peter slid his thumb up and down the back of Neal's neck slowly. "You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. I'm here, Neal, and I won't leave you. You're not alone." He waited a few moments, listening to Neal sniffle beside him. "Do you trust me?"

"You're the only one," he whispered. "The only person in my life I _trust._"

Peter smiled. "I'm never going to let anyone hurt you again, sweetheart. I'm not going to abandon you. I'm with you until the end of time." He leaned over to kiss Neal's cheek. "You need to understand that you're worth a hell of a lot more to me than you'll ever truly believe." Neal nodded. "If marriage is ever legalized," he began tentatively, "I'm going to make you my husband, Neal Caffrey." Neal's head snapped up and he stared at his lover in awe. Peter's heart leapt when he saw Neal tearing up again. He was getting through to him. "And when that time comes, I hope you have enough faith in and love for yourself as I do in you." Neal was about to respond when Peter's eyes caught movement up ahead. "I promise we'll continue this conversation later, babe," he said, unbuckling. "Our man finally showed."

Neal rubbed his eyes, adjusting his breathing. "All right. What's Jones' response time?"

"About ninety seconds. You know the phrase you're supposed to use when you've got eyes on the narcotics?"

"It's easier to do drugs than it is to stop." Peter nodded. "I know he'll be armed and he'll have me searched. I won't have my gun on me, Peter, so I'm really…"

Again, Peter nodded. "We'll have your back, Neal. He pulled a watch out of the glove compartment and put it on Neal's left wrist. He tapped a button and said, "This will let us hear you. When they search you, hit the button to turn it off. Afterwards, hit it again and turn it back on." He stroked the back of Neal's hand slowly, nervous. "I'll be in the van with Jones once you're inside and then it's all you."

Neal laughed uneasily. "No pressure." Peter rubbed his thigh. Neal clicked the watch to turn it off and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too. That's why I need you to make damn sure you don't get shot up in there." Neal leaned over and pecked Peter's cheek, nodding. He clicked the watch back on and was getting ready to leave the car. "Be careful. Good luck." Neal smiled at him, exiting the car. Peter watched his lover walk down the street and into a weathered and abandoned house. He threw glances over his shoulder occasionally before finally reaching the door. Once he was inside, Peter got out of the _Taurus_ and walked a block and a half away to get into the municipal van to join Jones. Jones acknowledged Peter's entrance with a nod, handing him a headset to listen in. "He doing all right so far?"

"Sounds good."

"_I hope you don't mind that we're a…cautious group,_" the man said.

Neal, ever the charmer despite his breakdown not too long ago, laughed. "_I don't mind at all. As long as I get what I came for, be as cautious as you'd like._" The sound on the other end went dead for a little over thirty seconds before it clicked back on. Peter was relieved to hear Neal's voice again. "_I trust you have everything in order?_"

"_Of course, Mister Halden._" A door opened and closed. "_We didn't discuss a payment method, however. How are you planning to pay for this?_"

"_I'll have just what you need in my bank account. There's no reason to worry about your payment. Two grand is nothing for this baby._"

The man chuckled, obviously taking a liking to Neal. "_Why don't we drink to that?_" Neal didn't object to that, so he'd taken the offer. Peter had a bad feeling about that as he listened to them all clink their glasses together. By the sound of each glass, Peter estimated that there were at least five other men with Neal. "_Mister Halden, you don't look like a man who would be interested in drugs._"

Neal laughed. "_You don't look like a man who would sell drugs,_" he said teasingly, making Peter's gut twist nauseatingly. "_I love the feeling. The rush, the high. It's bliss._" Peter and Jones waited in the van for a good twenty minutes, listening to Neal speak with the men inside. They were asking him a lot of questions and Peter was about ready to pull Neal out, fearing that he'd been made and that the whole op was going to blow up. "_Not to rush anything, but when will I see that you have what I asked for?_"

A box was being pulled down from a shelf, or at least that's what Peter thought. He turned to Jones, who radioed their team. "Everyone stand by. We should have eyes on the drugs soon."

It sounded like one of the men was dropping plastic baggies on the tabletop that were filled up with the powdered heroin they were looking for. "_Satisfied, Mister Halden?_"

Neal made a few observational sounds, followed up with a very pleased sound. "_Indeed. Everything looks like it's here._"

"_Now, may I have your account information to make the transfer?_"

"_Certainly._" Neal gave the man the account numbers to an FBI account they could trace. These men were dealers, but they wanted to know who was distributing at the top of the chain. Peter heard glass shatter and it sounded like someone stumbled into the table.

"_Mister Halden, are you all right?_" Peter could hear that there was absolutely no concern in the man's voice whatsoever. Something was wrong with Neal and that made his heart pound.

Neal groaned. "_I…guess it's easier to do drugs than it is to stop,_" he whispered, his voice sounding strange in the headset.

"That's it!" Peter cried out, on the line with the team. "Move in. Now!" Peter pulled his gun out and leapt out of the van, darting down the block with Jones on his tail. Peter shoved himself against the door once he reached the building and yelled, "FBI!" Two men came out of a storage room with weapons. "Drop your weapons!" Just then, the rest of the team entered the building. Seeing that they really had no other choice, the two surrendered, setting the weapons down on the floor immediately, throwing their hands up afterwards. "Cuff 'em. I'm going to find Neal."

Holding his gun between his hands, he cautiously speed-walked over to the storage room door the men had come from. He pushed the door open quickly and came face to face with the man they'd tracked down. Neal was on the floor, gasping, with two men pointing guns at him. "You want your boy to make it out alive?" Peter didn't answer, his eyes flickering down to Neal and then back up to the speaker. "You let us out without tails and we might not kill him."

Peter, knowing what narcotics could do to people, wasn't willing to let them run _or_ hurt Neal more than they already had. "Move away from him. Now." Neal was rasping something unintelligible and one of the men above him loaded his gun. Fortunately, there was a back door to the storage room and four agents stormed the room, guns in hand. The man who appeared to be in control looked absolutely defeated. "Drop your weapons," Peter commanded. Reluctantly, they did so. He didn't watch his agents cuff the dealers. He was immediately kneeling beside Neal, shaking him gently. "Neal? Neal, it's Peter. Can you talk to me?" Peter frantically combed his fingers through Neal's hair. The younger man wasn't responding. "Neal, sweetheart, answer me. _Please._" Jones came into the room, pausing in the doorway. Peter spun around on his heels. "Get me an ambulance!"

•◊•

Neal gasped, his back arching off of the bed he was laying on. He could hear machines beeping at him and it was dark except for the glow of the lights of the machinery he was, evidently, hooked up to. In a split second, someone took a hold of his hand, another hand brushing his hair back. "P-Peter?"

"It's me," Peter whispered. He kissed Neal's forehead, sighing in relief.

Neal's stomach was churning and he groaned. It was very uncomfortable. "What happened?"

Peter sat on the edge of the bed, his hand sliding down to Neal's chest to rest above his heart. "Porter drugged you. He slipped Rohypnol into the drink he gave you." Neal knew there was something Peter wasn't telling him. He could feel the tension in his lover. "Neal, you died—in the ambulance." Neal's lips parted. Peter was rubbing his chest, his breath hitching. "I thought I'd lost you forever," he whispered. "I know the statistics of resuscitation after things like this are low. I thought you were gone."

He clutched Peter's hand tightly, his eyes watering. He knew Peter was crying. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, Peter." He hadn't thought anything of it after taking the drink. There were no immediate effects, but his vision blurred and he felt sick, which made him throw out the line Peter told him to use.

The older man pulled himself up onto the bed entirely, curling against Neal. He was crying against Neal's shoulder, holding him tightly. "I was so scared," he admitted. "I didn't know what to do. I couldn't breathe. I…I was there when it happened." Neal rubbed the back of Peter's neck, feeling too nauseated to do much more than that. He breathed shakily, nuzzling his face against the fabric of the bed clothes the hospital had provided for Neal. "God…"

"I'm sorry," Neal repeated. "I should have known they'd try to pull something. I wasn't cautious enough and I…" He swallowed hard. "Did we bring them down at least?"

Peter nodded. "We arrested them for dealing drugs on the black market and for the attempted murder of a federal agent." He gripped Neal's hip, exhaling heavily. "That's not important right now. Neal, I could've gotten you killed."

Neal shook his head, which he immediately regretted. "You didn't know. I didn't know. I offered to go undercover, Peter, and you okayed it." He sighed, closing his eyes. "I'm not blaming you if you think that's what I'm doing." Peter made occasional, barely audible sounds to indicate that he was still crying, but felt embarrassed by it. "What did you…? What did you tell Nick and Mike?"

"Mike knows what happened. I asked him to tell Nicky you'd be okay and home soon." Neal lifted his hand from Peter's, stroking Peter's cheek. "El was here while you were unconscious. She told me I should go home and get some rest, make sure Nicky's okay… I _couldn't_ leave you here. I know you probably wish I'd gone home to take care of everyone, but you…you're my…my everything, Neal."

Peter pushed himself up without touching Neal. He hovered over the younger man, staring at him in the bare minimum light they were permitted this late into the night. "I'm too in love for the first time in my life. Leaving you isn't an option," he said sincerely as though he'd prevented his own untimely death. Peter kissed him hard, thrusting all of his fear and pain into Neal's mouth. Neal made a small, stunned sound, but didn't let Peter pull away. His hands gripped Peter's shoulders, holding him in place.

They spent the better part of an hour talking, but Neal was too tired to keep the conversation going. Peter promised he wouldn't leave until Neal could leave with him, so he stayed on the bed, curled up with Neal for the duration of the night.

By morning, the doctors had done a few tests on him. The drug was out of his system and they were eager to tell them that Neal hadn't been sexually assaulted, which hadn't even entered their minds until it was brought up. As soon as they were in the car, ready to head home, Peter looked up a few things on Rohypnol, discovering that it's considered a date rape drug.

They both put it out of mind as they went home a little after three in the afternoon. As soon as they walked through the front door, June was there, pulling Neal into her arms, telling him how glad she was that he was all right. Michael kept her informed as Peter texted him things, so she was in on all of the details as well.

The apartment was quiet when they went in and that made Neal uneasy. He could hear the sounds of the DS in Nicky's room and the shower was on down the hall though and was instantly relieved. Neal was still feeling a bit out of it, so Peter helped him over to the bed, laying him down and covering him up with the blanket. He kissed Neal's forehead and went to see Nicky. "Nick," he whispered, getting the boy's attention from the doorway. "Daddy's home, but we need to stay quiet, okay?" Nicky grinned at him, rushing over to hug Peter.

"Thank you for keeping daddy safe."

Peter smiled, stroking Nicky's hair. "I'll always keep daddy safe." He squeezed Nicky's shoulder. "I'm going to go lay down with daddy, okay?"

Nicky nodded. "Okay. Love you, poppa," he whispered. Peter's lips parted and the surprise washed over him. That was the first time Nicky ever called him anything beside 'Peter' or his daddy's boyfriend. When talking to Neal, they both acted like Nicky was _their_ son, but, even though Nicky treated him like a father, he never referred to Peter as anything of the kind.

Peter knelt in front of the young boy, grinning as he pulled him into a hug. "Love you, too, Nick." He couldn't stop grinning even as he stood up and Nicky went over to the bed to grab his DS and play on it. His heart was filled with joy and he wondered if Neal felt like this the first time Nicky called him 'daddy.' He stepped out of the room, leaving the door open. He found Neal sitting up on the bed, smiling at him. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Thought you were supposed to be lying down?"

"He called you 'poppa,'" he said quietly. Peter crossed the room to get into the bedroom, seating himself beside Neal's legs.

Rubbing Neal's thigh, he laughed quietly. "I never thought he'd be able to call me 'dad' because that's you. I was getting used to him saying 'Peter' all the time. This was…. Neal, I was very touched by that little comment."

Neal grinned. "Welcome to daddyhood," he teased. "He loves you, Peter, as much as he loves me. If something were to happen to me, he'd trust you to be there for him. You talked to me about marriage yesterday." Peter nodded, sliding his hand up Neal's leg to grab his hand. "If there ever comes a day when it's possible for us, he's not going to see you as a step-father. You'll be his other daddy."

Peter squeezed Neal's hand. "I love you both very much. You're my own little family and I'd do anything for you both." He leaned forward to kiss Neal chastely. "I never thought I'd have the opportunity to be a father, Neal. El and I… We couldn't have children." He looked directly into Neal's eyes, smiling as he saw the happiness in those pale blue orbs. "I feel close enough to him to say he's my son. I want to be his father, too."

"You already are." Neal patted the empty mattress beside him, wanting Peter to join him. Peter carefully crawled over Neal, not willing to make the effort to get up and walk around the bed. He curled up behind Neal, draping his arm over the younger man's torso. Neal gripped his hand and held it tight against his chest.

They both drifted off for a little while, relaxed and comfortable at home—in their bed. When Peter woke up, it was nearly six o'clock. He made sure he didn't jostle Neal around as he got off of the bed. He went to start dinner, Nicky joining him in the kitchen area. Peter was making pasta for dinner, smiling down at Nicky occasionally. Michael was doing homework at the table. "Hey, Peter?"

Peter glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, buddy?"

"Neal told me you got a degree in accounting." Peter raised an eyebrow. "Would you mind helping me with my math?"

Peter smiled. "That won't be a problem at all. Let me finish dinner and wake him up, then I'll help you out. Sound good?" Michael was in total agreement. Putting off his homework was a relief. He closed the book and slid it across the table with his notebook. Nicky went into the bedroom to lie down beside his father, staring at his sleeping face. He was smiling at Neal, waiting patiently for him to wake up. Once dinner was ready, Peter dished out a plate for himself, Neal, and Nicky. Michael said he'd get his own, so he left him to it. He set Neal and Nicky's plates down at the table before heading back to grab his own. Then he went into the bedroom, standing beside Neal. He really didn't want to wake him up, but Neal needed to eat. He leaned forward and kissed his neck. "Hey," he whispered, rubbing Neal's hip. "Time to wake up, sweetheart."

Neal moaned. "Five more minutes, Peter…" Peter chuckled and kissed his hair.


	28. Chapter 28

Neal stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, combing his fingers through his hair and fidgeting with his tie for what Peter felt was the fiftieth time—at least—since they'd finally set a time with El and Diana for their double date. Peter had his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head. "You know you don't have anyone to impress. You're drop dead gorgeous without a tie _and_ with bed head."

The younger man lifted an eyebrow, staring at Peter in the mirror. "Oh, no, honey. You don't need makeup. You look sexy when you're so plain." Peter rolled his eyes and Neal smirked. "I know you think that. I still like to make an attempt to look good though."

"Why?" Peter asked, genuinely curious.

Neal shrugged. "Guess I want everyone to look at how gorgeous we are together rather than just you." Again, Peter rolled his eyes. He stepped forward and circled his arms around Neal's waist, mouthing against Neal's neck. Neal just smiled and continued fussing with his hair, trying to make sure every hair was in perfect placement. He was surprised when Peter's hand slipped into the waistband of his pants and rubbed him through the fabric of his boxers. "Mm," he moaned, leaning back against Peter.

Peter gently nibbled Neal's skin, leaving very small, nonpermanent marks. "I want to undress you and carry you out to the bed and just fuck you into the mattress until you're breathless," Peter whispered huskily, breathing warm puffs of air against Neal's throat.

"I want that, too," Neal replied almost instantly, shivering.

"Um, hey." Neal and Peter both startled, Peter's hand retracting quickly from Neal's pants to grab at Neal's hip. They both saw Michael in the mirror and turned to look at him. "Sorry to interrupt your bathroom groping session, but some guy named Jones just came up."

Peter's brows furrowed. He let go of Neal, leaving the bathroom to see what Jones came over for. "Did he look nervous? Like, whatever he said might make Peter chew him out?"

"Possibly. He only asked for Peter."

Neal was curious, so he cautiously walked out into the hallway, trying to listen without being seen or heard. "We aren't sure how it happened," Jones said, sounding apologetic. "Diana and I have been running leads since we heard and nothing seems to be turning up."

Peter sighed one of his frustrated sighs. "This isn't good—at all. What am I supposed to tell him? I…I can't lie to him, Jones, even if I know how he feels about the situation." Neal glanced at Michael, who was just as confused as he was. "OPR has no business in our affairs and I'm afraid he's going to be looking into Neal too much."

_OPR._ Neal felt sick just hearing that acronym. Whenever OPR was involved, Fowler wasn't too far behind, which meant Fowler was going to be working either with or close to them on something. "He didn't mention Neal, but I think you're right. This is too odd to be a coincidence. He's going to be thoroughly observing us for the unforeseeable future and I don't like it."

"So, thus far, we have no idea why Fowler is with us?" Well, that confirmed it.

"None whatsoever. He was hanging around Neal's desk though. I asked him why he was trying to get onto Neal's computer, but he didn't seem too inclined to give me an answer."

"Who's Fowler?" Michael whispered, staring at his brother.

Neal grimaced. "An ex-boyfriend."

Michael nodded slowly. "What do you think he wants?"

Neal shrugged. "He probably wants to screw with me and he's going to use Peter to do it," he said bitterly. "Fowler thinks I only slept with him so I could get into the FBI because my fa—" He immediately cut himself off, amending the statement with, "—because I was having a rough time getting in on my own merit." When Michael gave him a questioning look, Neal defensively said, "I didn't. I worked my ass off at Quantico to get here. Fowler wanted me in DC and I wanted to work here."

"Is that what ended your relationship?"

"Among other things."

Peter cleared his throat and the two younger men jumped, glancing at him. "If you're going to eavesdrop, you should be quieter." Neal's face heated up and he bit his lip. "Get out here," Peter said, sighing as he gestured for them to join him and Jones in the other room. "Fowler's back, but I'm sure you overheard that already." Neal nodded. "Any idea why he might be hanging around?"

"No. I haven't spoken to him in a long time, so I'm not sure where I stand with him."

Peter sighed, resting a hand on his hip. He turned back to Jones, nodding. "All right. Thanks for the heads-up, Jones. I'd come in and check this out myself, but I owe Caffrey a date—a double date, really."

Jones laughed. "I heard from Diana. Hope you four have fun tonight."

Neal smiled and Peter said he'd walk Jones out. "Good night, Jones," Neal called out.

"Night, Caffrey."

"Daddy, daddy!" Neal turned to see Nicky run out of his room. "Where's poppa?"

Neal grinned. "Poppa will be right back. He's taking a friend downstairs. What's up, kiddo?" Nicky took Neal's hand, dragging him into the bedroom. Nicky let go of Neal and darted over to the corner of the room where a small box was. "What's in the box?"

Nicky picked it up and brought it over to his father, opening it. Neal nearly jumped out of his skin when the animal inside squeaked at him. "It's a mouse, daddy."

"Um, where did you… Why did you capture it?"

June wasn't going to be happy about this and Neal desperately hoped he wasn't to blame for their intruder, though he somehow felt he was absolutely at fault. "It looked hungry. I took some cheese out of the fridge for him." Peter entered the room then and Nicky grinned at him. "Poppa, look!"

Nicky showed Peter the mouse and he looked at it curiously, then at Neal. "Are we domesticating mice now?"

Michael laughed and Neal glared at him. "Nick, it…can't stay here. I don't think Aunt June will like that very much." Nicky looked disappointed by that and Neal wanted to slap himself for making Nicky look like that. He really hated when Nicky was disappointed or upset because it made him feel like a failure. "How about I ask Aunt June if we can get a hamster or guinea pig?"

"Why can't I keep the mouse?"

Neal sighed, looking desperately at Peter for help. "Nicky, the mouse probably has a family of its own somewhere nearby. We can't keep it here." Nicky looked at him, surprised, as if he hadn't even considered that. Peter was truly grasping at straws though. "What if someone wanted to borrow you for a little while and kept you away from us? Wouldn't that scare you?"

Nicky nodded quickly. "I don't want to scare him." It took less than five minutes for them to convince Nicky to take the box downstairs and let the mouse out outside. It was getting pretty dark, so Nicky was sad that he didn't get to see which way the mouse ran.

Peter led Nicky back up to the apartment where he found Neal giving Michael a list of things to know while they'd be out. "If he hurts himself somehow, obviously call nine-one-one if it's an emergency, but make sure you call me, too. I'll have my phone turned up in case you need me. No ice cream after eight and don't let him start a movie after seven-thirty. He'll try to get you to let him stay up by offering to play _Just Dance_ with you, so don't fall for that." He started scribbling things down onto a notepad, writing down all of the timestamps he'd just gone over. "He can play on his DS until nine, but then he needs to be in bed before nine-thirty. His homework is done, so have him pack his backpack up tonight. He sometimes forgets his homework, so that needs to go in the green folder. I have papers on my nightstand that need to go in the blue folder. It's for his teacher. I—"

"Okay, daddy," Michael interjected, laughing. "Good lord are you precise." Neal glared at him and Michael smiled.

"If he so much as begs to stay up, tell him I'll ground him or take his DS away. If he's willing, have him take a bath or shower so he doesn't have to get up earlier than he needs to tomorrow morning."

Peter walked up behind Neal, watching Nicky run into his bedroom to plop down onto his bed and grab his DS. Peter rested his hand on Neal's back and whispered, "Honey, everything's going to be fine. Mike will have everything under control."

Neal sighed, nodding. "Sorry if I'm going a little overboard with this…"

"Oh, I understand, Neal," Mike said. "I'd be acting the same way if I were you."

"Nick, daddy and I are leaving. You gonna say good night? You'll be asleep before we get home."

Nicky immediately burst out of his bedroom, darting over to Peter and Neal. He hugged Peter tight. "Night, poppa." Peter stroked his hair, smiling. Nicky switched over to his father, who knelt to pull him into a hug. "Night, daddy. Love you both."

"Love you, too," both men said simultaneously.

•◊•

As Neal and Peter headed into the restaurant they were meeting Elizabeth and Diana at, Peter noticed Neal fidgeting with his tie again. Rolling his eyes, he reached over to pull Neal's hand into his. "You're perfect," he whispered, smiling at Neal. They were near enough to the restaurant for Peter to see the way Neal's skin flushed a light shade of pink as he returned the smile. They went inside and Peter spoke to the man at the front, saying, "Reservation for Burke." Elizabeth and Diana were already seated at their table and waved. Neal waved back, his other hand still holding Peter's.

Peter and Neal were allowed in and ushered to their table. The two ladies stood, hugging both men before they all took their seats. "Didn't think you boys were going to show," Elizabeth teased. "Diana and I were going to order without you if you hadn't shown up."

Peter smiled at Neal. "We aren't _that_ late."

They made small talk, avoiding anything to do with work, until their server came to the table. Neal and Peter discussed getting something they could share since they'd eaten a little at home beforehand and settled on getting a steak and fries meal with red wine. El and Diana ordered individual meals, a salad for Elizabeth and steak for Diana. They said they wouldn't mind trying the wine that the boys were having.

Peter held Neal's hand on the table, absently rubbing his thumb over Neal's soft skin. "So how are you feeling, sweetie? Di told me you were in the hospital recently."

Neal nodded slowly. "I'm feeling better now." He looked at Peter, giving him a small smile. "Peter's been taking a lot of shit from me lately, but he's helped me through everything." Neal flipped his hand over, holding Peter's tightly. "I can't thank him enough," he said quietly.

When their meal arrived, Peter kissed Neal's cheek, letting Neal take whatever he wanted from their share first, which wasn't much. Throughout dinner, Peter noticed that Neal wasn't drinking a lot of wine. He'd had a little more than half of the bottle himself, so Peter was genuinely concerned. "Neal?" he whispered, leaning closer to him while El and Diana continued to eat.

"Mm?" Neal glanced at Peter, his eyes bleary.

"Are you okay?"

Neal nodded. "Not feeling too good all of a sudden, but I'm fine otherwise."

El and Diana looked at the two of them, just as concerned about Neal as Peter was. "Ladies, if you'll excuse us, I'm going to take Neal to the restroom," he said quietly, pushing his seat back. They both nodded, watching warily as Peter had to guide Neal by the arm. Just before they'd gotten into the restroom, Neal started to pale. Peter quickened their pace and Neal took over, rushing over to a toilet as soon as they were inside. He fell to his knees, subsequently emptying his stomach. Peter was hovering over him, a hand resting on Neal's back, rubbing up and down his spine slowly. "I really need to start watching you when you've got alcohol," Peter muttered.

After a few moments, Neal sat back against the stall wall, breathing heavily. He wiped his mouth with the palm of his right hand, his eyes closed. "I really don't feel good."

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Peter was kneeling in front of him now, hands resting on Neal's knees. "Head's pounding. Stomach hurts. Can't think straight."

"Do you want me to take you home?" Neal shook his head. Peter lifted his right hand and pressed the back of it against Neal's forehead. "Sweetheart, you have a fever. I can tell the girls you're sick and we can head home."

Neal shook his head again. "No. It's date night. We don't get to go out together much."

Peter laughed quietly. "I don't want you to spend another hour or two out with us if you'd rather be in bed."

Neal's eyes opened slightly and he gave Peter a wry smile. "You're just saying that because you want to fuck me," he said, slurring a bit.

"Didn't even cross my mind." Neal gave him a look of disbelief. "You're extremely fuckable regardless of the state you're in, but I don't want to make you feel worse, baby." He kissed Neal's hair, helping him up. Neal stumbled forward against him a bit, but tried to readjust his footing, which made Peter chuckle. "You had to be a massive alcoholic beforehand if this is what you're reduced to after a little more than half a bottle."

Neal's eyes flashed despite the evident buzz. "Should've seen the shit I used to do. Mm, you would've liked to dance with me when I was totally drunk." Peter rolled his eyes, laughing as he kissed Neal's cheek. "Dance with me now?"

"I'm going to take your ass home and put you to bed, hon," Peter countered. "Thank God I didn't drink a whole hell of a lot." He hadn't expected Neal to be their designated driver, but he'd planned on drinking a little more than he already did. Since Neal was borderline drunk, he figured neither of them should drink any more wine tonight.

He dragged Neal back out into the dining room, somehow managing to seat Neal without him toppling over. "Is he okay?" Diana asked, concerned.

"My sweet dork had too much to drink, evidently. He isn't feeling well, so I think I'm going to take him home before he gets sick again." El and Diana both looked sympathetic. "Was he like this when you got him after he saw his mother?"

El nodded. "I'm still not sure why he called me instead of you, but he was a mess." She shook her head, getting up to move around the table to where Neal was. She stroked his hair slowly. "I didn't know what to do with him, so I took care of him for a little bit and then he told me he wanted to go home. I've never seen anyone so miserable while drunk before that night."

"Is he acting as miserable as he did then?"

"Oh, no. Not even close. This looks like a moderately happy drunk side of Neal." Elizabeth leaned over to kiss Neal's sweaty hair. "Good night, my sweethearts." She and Diana hugged Neal, then Peter. They all left money on the table—Peter decidedly paid for himself and Neal rather than paying individually. The four of them walked out together, Peter's arm around Neal's shoulders and the two women's hands intertwined as they walked behind the two men. Peter helped Neal into the car with Diana and Elizabeth standing right there. He buckled Neal up with some difficulty, but managed. When Peter shut the door, he turned to face the two. "Thanks for doubling with us tonight, hon. Even if he got a little smashed, it was nice to have time for just us. We need to do it again sometime." Elizabeth smiled sweetly at her ex-husband.

Peter grinned, leaning forward to kiss Elizabeth's cheek. "I agree. It was nice. I'm sure Neal appreciates it just as much as I do." He laughed quietly. "All we do is spend time together, so it's probably kind of a relief to spend time with others—especially two very beautiful women we both can't help but adore."

Elizabeth giggled. "I'm really glad you two ended up together," she said, resting her hands on Peter's chest. "You're both too cute."

Diana smiled. "I'm glad they're together, too," she said quietly, staring at Elizabeth adoringly. "We're together because of them."

Peter felt like a voyeur as the two women kissed each other in front of him. He had a sudden urge to yank the car door open and kiss Neal until he was breathless, but his lover was probably too out of it for that right now. "This all worked out perfectly," he agreed, trying to ease them out of their kiss to make things less awkward. "Seeing you two together and happy makes me happy. I don't regret leaving you," he said to El, "because I know you're just as happy with Diana as I am with Neal."

Elizabeth winked at him. "Maybe we'll have a double wedding in the future. It'll be pretty hot with you two there."

Peter rolled his eyes. "We'll attend your wedding and you'll attend ours," he said. "No need to add that to our doubles list. If the law is ever passed in New York, I call proposing to him first—just so we aren't overlapping," he teased.

Diana smirked. "As long as El and I are married first, you can have your early proposal."

He hugged them both again, thanking them for the outing. "You two take care. I'll see you tomorrow, Di, bright and early."

She chuckled. "I'll see you and your boyfriend with a dreadful hangover." He gave her a small smile. "Have a good night, boss."

"Good night, hon."

"Good night, ladies." He watched them walk towards their car, waiting for them to get inside and drive off before getting into the _Taurus_ with Neal, who looked like he was asleep. He'd leaned the chair back a bit, so Peter assumed he was sleeping. Peter smiled, rubbing Neal's thigh before starting up the car to head home.

•◊•

"How's the hangover?" Neal groaned when Peter sat on the edge of his desk. "That bad?"

"Staring at this screen is making my life hell."

Peter chuckled. "Take it easy. Hughes has you doing the bare minimum today at my request." Neal grimaced at him. "Hey, don't give me that. You're in no mood to be doing a lot if the screen alone is frustrating you."

Neal rubbed his temples, sighing. "I really need to stop drinking. I hate hangovers." Peter got up and circled the desk to stand behind Neal. He rested his hand on Neal's shoulder, glancing down at the screen. "I'm just doing some…research," Neal said defensively.

"On your ex-boyfriend?"

Neal ducked his head. "I want to know why he's here. He knows we're together since you didn't really hide it all that well when he came to arrest me." Peter squeezed his shoulder. "I really don't like the idea of him hanging around us. I feel like he's going to make comparisons between himself and you."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Why would he do that? You've told me I have nothing in common with him."

"He was my temporary 'boss,' if you will, at Quantico. Right now, you're my boss. He'll probably say something stupid about me being with men who dominate me." Neal's back tensed when he said that and Peter rubbed his shoulder.

"I don't dominate you, nor do you submit to me," he said reassuringly. "I love you as much as you love me. We're on equal ground." Neal smiled faintly at that, eternally grateful to Peter for saying that aloud. "Besides, I'm only your boss _here._ I don't need to control you elsewhere."

The elevator dinged not too far away from the two of them. They both looked up to see Fowler strutting into the bullpen. Neal grimaced again, looking away. He figured avoiding eye contact might prove to be the best move for him right now. However, Fowler didn't believe that. "Good morning, Caffrey," he said sweetly, making Neal's stomach twist. When Fowler looked at Peter, Peter was glaring as though he'd love to smash Fowler's face in, which Neal was pretty sure Peter was considering. "Agent Burke."

"Morning," they both muttered.

"Has Agent Hughes informed you on our temporary partnership?" Neal's head snapped up and his eyes widened. He _really_ didn't want Peter and Fowler working together. It wasn't that he had anything to hide. He just knew that Peter could be jealous or feel threatened by one of his ex-boyfriends. Peter could be possessive at times and Neal didn't mind that. He just didn't need Peter getting himself into trouble over some unimportant comment Fowler would no doubt make. "I take that as a no then. We're tracking down a team of agents who stole information from our database in DC, erasing it entirely and disappearing along with it. We think they came to New York, so I've come on OPR's behalf to coordinate with your team, Agent Burke."

Peter nodded, his fingers tightening on Neal's shoulder. "As long as we focus on this, I'm fine with it." Fowler was about to comment, but Peter was faster. "You know Neal and I are together and I know you two were together. I'd rather we keep our relationship with Neal to ourselves and out of this."

Fowler shrugged. "I don't see why my relationship with Neal would be of any relevance to this case in particular anyway." He smiled at Neal. "It'll be nice to work alongside you, assuming you don't try to work your way up in the world by playing with the boss again."

Neal cringed. "I don't play games, Garrett," he whispered. "I didn't with you and I'm not playing with Peter either." Fowler shrugged it off, dismissing himself before Peter could throw his own two cents in. "He hates me because he thinks I got here by sleeping with him. I ditched him to come here for multiple reasons, one being because New York is my home and DC isn't."

Peter didn't say anything. He relaxed his grip on Neal's shoulder, massaging the area he'd held onto very tightly—probably tight enough to leave marks on Neal's skin. He watched Fowler with a critical eye as the man spoke with Hughes. He didn't like Fowler the first time he met him—Neal's arrest—and he certainly didn't like him now that he was back. Fowler in the office wasn't what Neal needed with Adler's trial in two days. He met Diana's eyes and saw that she was in the same boat. Neither of them wanted to work with that snake, especially if he came to mess with Neal.


	29. Chapter 29

Neal held Nicky close while they waited for the trial to start. Adler was being brought in. It'd be the first time he saw Adler again since Nicky was kidnapped and it made Neal nervous. Seeing him again brought back every ounce of fear he's held inside of him for twenty years. He'd feared for his own life far too long and he'd put Nicky's life in jeopardy. Putting Nicky in that position was unacceptable, so he swallowed his fear and anxiety, deciding, with Peter's support, that he could and would do this.

So when he was finally asked to testify, he was absolutely terrified. Adler was sitting right there in front of him as he took the oath at the stand, swearing that he'd tell the absolute truth in his testimony. Over the last few days, the attorney Peter hired—since Moz was nowhere to be found—had prepared him for this wonderfully. He just had to relax and answer as though he were talking only to Peter, which made him feel more comfortable. As he took his seat at the stand, he caught Adler's eye. His breath hitched, but then he focused on the man who'd be speaking to him. "Please state your name for the record."

"Neal George Caffrey."

"Mister Caffrey, can you tell us what happened on the afternoon of January sixth of this present year?"

Neal nodded, willing himself to hear voices, but not to see faces. The only face he needed to see was Peter's and he was aware that the voice escaping those luscious lips didn't belong to his lover. Just seeing, thinking about, and feeling Peter's love and support gave him strength. "I was working on a case with my partner. It was close to the time my son's school let out, so I made a comment to my partner and we were heading there to pick him up. As soon as we arrived, we heard sirens around the school. Upon entering, blood was splattered across the marble floors and I was told that my son had been kidnapped."

He made sure he looked at the jury occasionally as he spoke, if he wasn't looking at the attorney. "What happened next?"

Neal was evening his breathing out, recounting that day as though it were still fresh in his mind, which it was. He wouldn't forget how he felt that day, how destroyed he'd been. "My partner took me home and we discovered that our apartment had been broken into and massacred. Furniture was broken, personal possessions were in absolute disarray. It looked like a natural disaster."

"Then what happened?"

"I, regretfully, was put into solitary confinement for my own safety—at my partner's request. The whole situation was distressing and I wasn't as composed as I could have been. While I was there, my partner took several teams and placed them in various locations of Manhattan to search for my son. I broke out of the confinement I was placed in and went to look for my son myself, leaving clues behind for my partner because I knew he'd follow me." He smiled faintly for a moment. "I met one of Adler's associates and compromised with him, offering to trade myself for my son. My partner was able to figure out each clue and eventually ended up in Washington Square Park where Adler made the trade, allowing my son to walk away freely with my partner's phone number on a piece of paper. I saw what Adler did to my boy and I was willing to give my life for him if it kept him safe. Afterwards, he was leading me back to a hotel he'd booked for…us. Before we knew it, we were surrounded by the police department and several FBI teams without having left the square. My son was rescued and Adler had me at gunpoint, threatening to kill me. My partner disarmed him, resulting in the bullet wound he received on the same date. He was arrested and taken away and I was escorted home after my son was safely escorted there as well."

"Thank you, Mister Caffrey. I have no further questions."

The judge spoke up next. "Any questions for cross-examination?"

Adler's attorney stood, nodding. "Yes, Your Honor." She came around to stand before Neal, staring at him intently. "Mister Caffrey, will you describe your relationship to the defendant in this case?"

Neal nodded. "The defendant is my step-father," he said clearly.

She nodded thoughtfully. "What motivation do you believe the defendant had for kidnapping your son?"

Neal's heart tightened. This was it. "Twenty years ago, I was thirteen years old," he began. "He was recently wedded to my mother, Maryann. At the age of thirteen, he raped me." He didn't intentionally pause for a dramatic effect, but he heard the disgust of the jury and saw their glares in Adler's direction. "He harassed me over the phone and with letters from my mother on several occasions. It was clear to me that he was looking to start another nonconsensual physical relationship with me."

"One statement we were given stated that Mister Adler had your consent."

Neal reined in his disbelief and hatred. "He did not," he stated firmly.

"How long did this last?"

"Objection," Neal's attorney called out. Neal was willing to answer the question, but they hadn't discussed it in private. In the end, the judge silenced him and asked for Neal to continue.

Neal swallowed. "It lasted until shortly before my sixteenth birthday. I ran away from home to escape from him." Adler's attorney asked him if he had any proof that the rape had occurred and he nodded. "My attorney was given my medical files. I saw a doctor shortly after leaving home to…verify my health. He noted that there were significant signs that I'd been raped."

"And why would he kidnap your son if this was his intention all along?"

Neal refrained from screaming the obvious at her, feeling like she was absolutely _blind._ "Because I wouldn't willingly give myself to him, ma'am. He threatened my loved ones and acted on those threats, kidnapping my son while I was at work. We also have proof that my son was beaten while he was in Adler's hands."

Adler's attorney nodded. "Thank you, Mister Caffrey. No further questions."

Things went rather smoothly after he stepped down. Adler looked at him, staring into his soul, burning him from the inside out. When Nicky was up at the stand, he recounted to the jury what Adler had said and done to him. Neal knew everything already, as did Peter. "He told me that he wanted my daddy. I knew he wanted to hurt him. He said he'd hurt me if daddy didn't give himself up and he was trying to scare me."

Neal's attorney nodded. "Did he say anything else while you were his captive?"

"He screamed at me and called me by my daddy's name. He told me he'd…" Nicky met Neal's eyes and Neal nodded slowly. "He told me he'd rape me if daddy didn't come. I didn't know what that meant until daddy explained it to me later, but I knew it wasn't good."

Nicky was extremely composed, but a little frightened still. Peter, once he was called to the stand, was asked about his relationship with Neal. "Neal Caffrey is my partner of nearly a year. I am the one he trusted enough to discuss his past. He'd told me before that he'd asked his mother for help, but she'd done nothing after seeing physical evidence of what Adler had done, which resulted in his running away." Adler's attorney nodded and proceeded, asking him why he felt compelled to believe Neal's story. "I've seen victims of rape before and he was no different than any of them. He was absolutely terrified to tell me and I saw how it affected him when he did. He allowed me to look into his medical file that was provided as evidence and there was no dispute as to whether or not he was telling the truth."

Peter adamantly answered all of the questions he'd been asked and Neal was eternally grateful to him. Once the jury was led to the room they'd discuss amongst themselves in and Adler was led out and away from Neal and his family, Peter joined Neal and Nicky. Nicky was leaning against Neal, who was stroking the young boy's hair. "Thank you," Neal said sincerely.

The older man smiled. "I'd do anything for you, sweetheart. Putting him behind bars will protect you both and anyone else who might've become another victim." He rubbed Neal's thigh, clutching his knee gently. "It felt good to look at him and tell them everything," Peter admitted. "He looked furious and I'm glad. This time, the evidence weighs heavily against him. With the medical files detailed with your…encounter, the photos we took of Nicky's bruises and relevant wounds, and all of our honesty, I don't think he'll be getting out of here any time soon."

Neal nodded. "I believe you," he whispered.

"As I believe every word you said today," Peter countered, leaning closer to kiss Neal's cheek. "And any other day, for that matter."

A soft voice spoke from behind them, startling both men. "Is it too late for me to say I believe you, too?"

Neal's face heated up. He didn't want her here. She didn't deserve to be here. Michael was standing behind her, looking at Neal apologetically. "Yes, twenty years too late," Neal whispered bitterly. "I have nothing to say to you."

He refocused on Nicky, trying to pretend his mother wasn't there. "Your son is beautiful, Neal."

Neal tensed and Peter stood. "Maryann, he has nothing further to say to you," he said firmly. "If you start an argument before the judge or in front of _our_ son, I won't hesitate to have my team arrest you for harassment."

She looked stunned. Nicky looked up at her and gave her a confused look before looking up at Neal. "Is she my grandma?"

"No," Neal hissed. Peter clasped Neal's shoulder, silently begging him to calm down. Neal's voice softened when he continued. "She's nothing to you, baby. Poppa's parents are your grandma and grandpa." Nicky nodded, nuzzling into Neal's side. Peter smiled at Neal warmly, rubbing his thumb over the bones in Neal's shoulder.

Maryann was hurt by Neal's comment. This was the first time she'd seen her grandson and her son had just disowned her. "Neal, I'm still your mother."

"You gave birth to me. Ellen was my mother," he retorted. Maryann bristled at the mention of Ellen. Peter was confused. He couldn't remember Neal ever having commented on anyone named Ellen. "She was there when you weren't. Even though I ran away from her, too, she's more of a mother to me than you've ever been."

She gaped at him. "Neal, why can't we put all of this behind us?"

Neal gently shifted Nicky off of him, pushing himself up to stand and face his mother. "Peter—" Michael intervened then, telling Nicky to come with him. Nicky eagerly followed his Uncle Mike, leaving Peter and Neal alone with Maryann. "I can't put this behind me because I was raped until I screamed, cried, begged, and _bled._ It happened so often and you were so oblivious to it. I know you heard me scream. I'm not ignorant, no matter what you might think." She tried to speak, but he held his hand up. "I don't want to see you ever again. You betrayed my trust. You betrayed me. You sided with a rapist when you should've been on my side." Again, she tried to speak. "I don't want you anywhere near my son, my partner, or my brother."

"Why must you take everything away from me?" she asked brokenly.

He shook his head. "I'm not taking anything from you. I've giving you what you gave me—_hell._" Peter was there to intervene if Maryann decided to hurt Neal. He wouldn't allow it. Not after this. "I don't want you in my life. I don't want you in my son's life. I don't want you to be at my wedding when it's legalized." He sighed heavily. "I don't want you to immerse yourself into my world and leave misery in your wake. I love Nick. I love Peter. I love Mike. They and a few of my friends are the only ones I give a damn about. I want them to be happy and I want them to be in my life."

She hesitated before saying whatever it was on her mind. "Do you love me?"

Neal stared at her, his pale blue eyes hardened into ice. "No."

A sob ripped through her then and Neal made no attempt to soothe her. If she were anyone else, he might've pulled her in for a hug and reassured her that everything could be better. But this was his mother, the one who turned her back on him when he needed her the most. He couldn't forgive and forget that. "I love you, Neal, and I'm sorry that I hurt you." Neal said nothing, staring directly into her eyes. Peter was proud of him for going about this calmly. He stepped closer to Neal, slipping his arm around Neal's waist, his hand resting above the scar he'd left when he'd shot Neal by accident. "You're so handsome, baby," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I'm proud of you for building a life for yourself."

She looked at Peter, not knowing what to say to him. "He and Nick are my family," Peter stated. "I respect his wishes and I don't resent him for wanting to distance himself from you. Nick won't resent him either." Neal nodded slowly, easing into Peter's hold on him. "The only thing I regret is that you weren't there to see him become the tremendous man he is right now."

Maryann nodded, staring at Neal longingly. She'd hoped that she might be able to repair the rift between them after hearing what he, Nicky, and Peter had to say about her husband. It was wishful thinking on her part and she should have known better. Neal was as hardened as his father, she realized, after strain was put on him. James resented her for keeping him out of Neal's life and Neal resented her for just about everything she'd either done or hadn't done.

An hour later, the jury reentered the courtroom and Adler was led back in. Peter sat with Neal and Nicky, holding Neal's hand tightly. Peter and Neal both caught the resentful sidelong glances Adler shot towards Neal and neither of them reacted. It was what he'd have wanted, so they knew not to give it to him. As the verdict was read aloud, Neal gripped Peter's hand tight enough to break bones. They only heard 'guilty' and 'life sentence.'

Neal's eyes watered and his chest felt like a weight had been lifted, a weight that had been crushing him for two decades. "It's over," Neal said shakily.

Peter pulled Neal's face close for a kiss. "It's over," he repeated, his thumb caressing Neal's cheekbone. "It's over."

•◊•

Neal's legs were wrapped around Peter's waist as Peter fucked Neal into the mattress. It was three in the morning and they couldn't help but celebrate their win. Neal panted heavily, cradling Peter's face between his hands as they kissed sloppily, their mouths dragging over each other's, teeth and tongues clashing. They'd both managed to hold out for almost twenty minutes before Neal started begging for Peter to move faster, thrust harder. Peter complied as best he could, aiming for Neal's prostate on each and every thrust, until Neal's orgasm shook through the young man, his eyes flooded by a bright whiteness. Peter was quick to follow Neal, clinging to him in the afterglow.

Peter was staring at his lover's face below him, taking in the satisfaction and happiness he found on Neal's face, in Neal's eyes. Neal's lips were bruised and his cheeks were flushed. Sweat covered both of their bodies and neither of them seemed inclined to move until Peter had to slowly untangle himself from Neal, sliding over to lay beside him. Neal took his hand, holding it gently. Peter was smiling, happier to see that same smile mirrored on his young lover's face. Neal's chest heaved as he laughed lightly. "God. I feel so fucking free," he whispered. "I've never felt like this before."

Peter chuckled. "You don't have to worry about a psychopath chasing you anymore. You're safer than you've ever felt in your life." He twisted to lay on his side, letting go of Neal's hand. He stroked Neal's midsection, his fingers slipping as they rubbed Neal's sweat. "I'm happy to have helped put him behind bars, but you did all of the work, Neal."

"I honest to God couldn't have done it without you," Neal said warmly, his eyelids drooping ever so slightly. "I never would have thought I was strong enough to go up there and tell everyone my dark secret without panicking, waiting for Adler to get up and strike me down."

The older man kissed Neal's shoulder. "You were amazing," he whispered. Neal lifted himself off of the bed for a moment as he shifted onto his side, curling against his lover. "I'm proud of you for many reasons, sweetheart, but this is the moment that shines the most. You put a monster behind bars for a very long time."

Neal smiled. "Felt damn good, too," he whispered, kissing Peter's chest. "I didn't panic or cry or anything like that. I actually talked to them and told them everything." He lifted his head to look into Peter's eyes. "It felt like you were the only one I was talking to and it made me feel comfortable. I pretended Adler wasn't there." Peter held Neal close, breathing him in and listening to his heavy breaths. He slid his hand down to Neal's hip, absently tracing patterns over the bone. "Can I ask you something?" Neal whispered after a long, yet easy, silence.

"You just did," Peter replied, smiling.

Neal grumbled, "Smartass."

"Go ahead, hon," Peter said, staring into his lover's eyes.

Neal nodded. "A few days ago, we talked about the idea of marriage—of _us_ getting married," he began. Peter wasn't sure where he was going with this, but he'd hear Neal out. "Peter, I don't know if you realized it, but that meant a lot to me. I've never imagined myself with a ring on my finger or pledging my heart and soul to anyone." He smiled, lifting his hand to stroke across Peter's chest. "I feel kind of giddy inside when I think about it. Being married to you would be like a fairytale come to life. You are a prince among men."

Peter grinned, caressing Neal's hip with his palm now. "By marriage, we'd become kings," Peter said sweetly. "I'd do anything to make you happy and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." The younger man couldn't stop smiling. He was overwhelmed with happiness. When Peter pulled Neal on top of him, Neal giggled. "I like seeing you like this. It warms my heart." Neal relaxed against Peter's chest, his legs straddling Peter while he laid there. His ear was above Peter's heart, so he closed his eyes to listen to it. Peter stroked up and down Neal's back slowly until he felt the younger man drifting off. "I love you, my beautiful king," Peter whispered, lifting one hand up to curl his fingers into Neal's hair. Neal murmured an unintelligible reply, but Peter understood and smiled.

•◊•

"You're looking exceptionally happy this morning."

Neal turned to his left, pausing in his process to make something tasteful out of the coffee. "Indeed," he replied cheekily. "I'm sure you heard from El and Peter already." She grinned. "I'm relieved. My son is safe and so am I."

She took the coffee mug out of his hand and set it down on the counter. He cocked an eyebrow at her as she pulled him into a hug. "I started crying tears of joy after Peter told me." She let go of him, holding his shoulders. "You're a survivor, Caffrey. Nobody's more proud of you than that boyfriend of yours." They both glanced up at Peter's office where the older man was working diligently on his reports. Neal's smile was dazzling and Diana liked it. "He couldn't stop talking about it when I went in to see him this morning. It was 'Neal this' and 'Neal that.' He's happy for you. He kept talking on and on about you and how wonderful and beautiful you are."

Neal's face heated up and he chuckled. "He said I'm wonderful and beautiful?" He highly doubted Peter said that aloud in the workplace, especially since the door had been wide open when he'd come back from running his errands for Hughes to find Diana and Peter still talking.

"Definitely. Caffrey, that man loves you beyond explanation."

Neal looked down for a moment, smiling to himself. "You're telling me," he said softly. "I'm the luckiest man alive to have someone so supportive and gracious. I wouldn't want to stay with me, but he's been here for me through all of this." He lifted his coffee mug from the counter and took a drink. "He's helped me more than I ever would have asked him to. I'd probably still be teetering between holding onto and falling from a ledge into a pit of darkness and despair if we hadn't gotten closer."

Diana gave him a soft smile, gripping his bicep. She was going to comment on how things were beginning to turn around for him, but she stopped herself. Things _were_ turning around for Neal. The last thing he needed was for her to jinx his newfound luck. "I'm really glad you two met, Caffrey," she said sincerely. "I never thought he'd find love—real love—and I bet you never thought the perfect man was out there."

Neal gave her a wry smile. "If I actually believed in odd occurrences, I may think you're a mind reader," he teased. "No, I never thought I'd find someone perfect. Peter's _more_ than perfect."

Her eyes drifted down to his neck and she grinned devilishly. "Looks like he is," she said, nodding at his throat. "He apparently lunges for the throat every time he has a chance." His eyes widened and his hand flew up to the spot she was referring to. Peter, in the beginning of their extremely late lovemaking, bit him roughly. He didn't mind at all, but it was obvious to _anyone._ He adjusted his tie and she winked. "You look cute when you're all flustered."

Neal muttered, "Good thing you're a lesbian and I'm gay."

She chuckled. "Go take some coffee up to your man and spend time with him. You bring out the best in him as far as I can tell."

He smiled, his face slowly cooling down. She went back to working on her own reports while Neal went back to work on the coffee. He abducted Peter's mug from time to time so he didn't go in and out all the time, thus distracting Peter. Though, as he carried the mugs up the stairs to Peter's office, he figured retrieving the mug wasn't nearly as distracting as him actually seating himself less than ten feet away from Peter. He handed Peter his mug and was rewarded with a brilliant smile, one that made butterflies flutter in his stomach. Neal found himself realizing that this was how happiness truly felt.


	30. Chapter 30

Neal was sitting at his desk, spinning a pen between his fingers, humming the beat of '_Shout_' by Tears for Fears. He'd been looking over a case file all morning, one that Peter assigned to him while Peter was out on one of his own cases. Diana spent lunch with him since she realized he was heading out to eat alone a little after noon and he'd appreciated her company. Thus far, he hasn't had to spend much time around Garrett, though he knows he's being watched from afar. It made Peter uncomfortable because he usually caught Fowler's eyes wandering in Neal's direction when Neal wasn't paying attention at all.

"Bored, Neal?" Neal startled, looking up. Fowler was smiling at him. "I could use some coffee, probie."

Neal glared. "I'm not your probie, Garrett. The machine is right there," he said, nodding towards the small break area. Fowler didn't make any attempt to leave Neal alone, but Neal was forcing himself to look at the case file he'd been given. It was so distracting, knowing Fowler was looming over him. "If there's nothing else, I'd like to work on this alone."

Fowler chuckled, shaking his head. "It's strange to see you trying so desperately to avoid me, considering you threw yourself at me in DC." Neal's shoulders tensed, but he refused to look up at Fowler. "Does the new man candy know you're trying to become 'Special Agent Neal Caffrey'?"

"I'm perfectly content with 'Agent Neal Caffrey.' The fancy titles are for those who deserve it, which Peter does." Fowler laughed quietly. "Garrett, if Peter thinks you're harassing me, he won't hesitate to act on it."

When the older man was quiet far too long, Neal actually looked up. "How sad is it that you've defaced yourself to the point where you're hiding behind so-called lovers?"

"How pathetic is it that you're pining for a man at least fifteen years your junior who left you high and dry because you made him miserable?" Neal retorted. Fowler looked slightly insulted by that, but chose to shrug him off. "I really need to get working on this case for Peter, so go do whatever it was you were doing before you decided to bother me, which I assume was stalking me from the conference room."

Fowler slammed his hands down on Neal's desk, leaning over it so that he was nearly in Neal's face. The sound drew Jones' and Diana's attention immediately and they were ready to spring into action if Fowler did anything to Neal. Diana was made aware of the relationship Neal and Fowler had been in and, at Peter's request, vowed to watch out for him in the case that Peter wasn't around to do it himself. Neal just stared at Fowler, waiting for him to leave as patiently as he could manage. There was no reason for him to cause a scene, so he just waited. "You think you're hot shit because you're fucking your boss, don't you?" Fowler whispered bitterly. "Neal, you're not going to get very far. As soon as he realizes that you're a slut, he'll kick you to the curb."

Neal smiled wryly at him, setting his pen down on the desk. He folded his fingers together, laughing lightly. "I've told Peter everything he needs to know about me. I've discussed past relationships with him and he knows I was raped." At the shocked look on Fowler's face, he laughed again. "You really need to fine-tune your stalking skills, Garrett. Peter loves me for who I am—slut and all."

"What the hell are you doing?" Neal glanced towards the doors as Peter pushed through them, glaring at Fowler. He was right in front of Fowler before he stopped. "You stay away from him."

"Peter, everything's—"

"Neal is _my_ boyfriend," Peter said possessively. Neal's stomach did a flip as he stared up at his lover. Fowler wasn't daunted by Peter staking his claim on Neal. "It's time for you to back off."

Fowler sighed. "For such a hardened agent as yourself, you should really be ashamed of how unprofessional you're acting."

Neal palmed his face, gritting his teeth. "I'm acting unprofessional? I'm not looking at someone else's boyfriend like he's some kind of God damn food." Fowler gave him a look of surprise. "I've seen you watching him," Peter growled. "He doesn't want you, Fowler."

"Are you so sure that he wants you, Agent Burke?"

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Neal stood quickly, catching Peter's eye. "Peter, calm down," Neal said softly. The last thing he wanted to do was set Peter off when he was already furious with Fowler. He pleaded with his eyes, hoping beyond hope that Peter would relax.

Fowler shook his head. "Neal doesn't know who or what he wants in his life. He goes from man to man constantly. I'm surprised he doesn't have a whole dossier of sexually transmitted diseases because of how much man-hopping he does."

Peter's face was turning red now and Neal wished Peter's eyes had stayed locked with his. "Neal and I are socially _and_ sexually monogamous," Peter hissed under his breath, low enough for only Neal and Fowler to hear him. "This isn't a fling. _You_ were a fling. He isn't with you and you're a jealous prick."

"Peter, please," Neal whispered.

"Neal, stay out of this."

Neal swallowed. "No." Peter looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Can we talk?" Peter's eyes widened and he felt like the worst was about to happen. He realized he'd made a mistake when he _commanded_ Neal to stay out of this and now he regretted it. Neal didn't wait for an answer. He expected Peter to follow him as he went up to Peter's office, standing with his back to the bullpen, hands on his hips. Peter cautiously followed him, shutting the door behind him so that they could talk privately. Peter didn't move or speak, afraid that he'd destroyed their relationship—even if the destruction was minimal. "We've talked about this before," Neal began. "I don't like this—you trying to control me like that." Peter looked apologetic, but made no move to touch Neal. He knew that he needed to listen to Neal. "I love you, okay? Like you said, we're monogamous. I can't see myself with anyone else ever again. Fowler isn't going to make me love you any less. He's a bastard, Peter, among other things. You're a thousand times the man he is, so don't stoop to his level and treat me like dirt, please."

Peter nodded. "I'm sorry, Neal. You're absolutely right and I understand what you're saying." He stepped closer to Neal, resting his hand on the small of Neal's back. Neal looked at him, his eyes dull. "I love you more than anything, Neal. I should know by now how to treat you properly and I just…failed miserably at doing so."

Neal sighed, shifting his left hand to grab Peter's right. "You were angry with him and I know that. I just don't want scum like him to get between us when there's absolutely no reason for it." He looked at his feet, frowning. "I was pretty slutty before you and I regret it, but I know what I want now." Peter smiled slightly. "You're everything I've ever wanted and needed in a man. Losing you would kill me."

Peter kissed his neck, sighing softly. "I wouldn't survive without you either," he whispered. He gave Neal a little room, especially because they were at work, but remained close enough for them to consider it an intimate distance. "If I promise you that I'll calm down, can you tell me why he was so close to you when I walked in?"

The younger man nodded. "Take a seat." Peter did as he asked and gestured for Neal to take the seat in front of his desk. "Okay," he started upon sitting down. "He was being the annoying fuck that he is and I called him out on watching me from the conference room, which you're aware of." Peter's hands balled up into fists and Neal put his hand out, pleading with Peter to take it. He figured that if Peter held his hand, he wouldn't be _as_ tempted to smash something in his anger. He was relieved when Peter gripped his hand firmly, yet again staking his claim on Neal. "He thinks I haven't told you everything there is to know about me, so he claimed you'd leave me once you realized how much of a slut I am."

"You're not a slut," Peter said bitterly. "What you did with other men isn't my concern. I don't think you're a slut for having sex with other men before me. You were always with _one_ man at a time, so you were faithful in many ways to your partners." Neal nodded slowly. "You aren't seeing other men behind my back, so I don't see a reason to label you as a cheater or anything synonymous." Peter shrugged, squeezing Neal's hand. "Even if you did cheat on me, I love you far too much to slander you."

Neal smiled softly. "Well, rest assured. I don't want to be with anybody else." He clasped Peter's hand in between both of his. "I'm in this for the long run, Peter. Same as you."

They relaxed for half an hour, occasionally discussing things that weren't work or Fowler related. "Peter." Peter looked up as his boss opened the door. Neal moved to stand and exit, leaving them to whatever discussion they needed to have, but Hughes motioned for Neal to stay put. Neal sat back down, suddenly nervous. Hughes shut the door behind him and looked frustrated. "I was told you were harassing Agent Fowler." Before Peter could defend himself, Hughes held up a hand. "I'm aware of his past relationship with my probie, but that doesn't mean I condone the fact that you were lashing out. Fortunately, you weren't violent about it. I'm just here to warn you. Be careful, Peter. This OPR bastard looks like he's holding something against you." Hughes pointedly looked at Neal before taking his leave.

"Well," Peter said awkwardly. "I suppose that could have gone worse." Neal sighed. "I'm not going to let your ex bother me again. Pissing him off is fun, but it's not worth losing my job over—unless he physically hurts you. If that were the case, I'd smash his face in."

Neal chuckled. "You must enjoy the thought of smashing men's faces—particularly men who have wronged me."

Peter nodded, not an ounce of denial in the gesture. "Anyone who messes with you has to deal with me." Neal smiled at him. "You're my boyfriend and I'm expecting to one day call you my husband, so I'm not going to let anybody hurt you if I can help it."

"If we were behind walls that weren't _glass,_ I'd be throwing myself at you for saying that." The older man laughed. "Seriously. None of my other boyfriends would have thought that way, let alone said it aloud." He shook his head, sighing. "I had one boyfriend who tried to appreciate me, but he was overbearing. At some point, he thought I was being ungrateful and things got rough." Peter nodded. He knew who Neal was talking about. Neal didn't keep secrets from him and he appreciated that. Honesty was something he desperately looked for in a partner. Sure, they'd had their moments of dishonesty, but they resolved the issue and moved on. It's part of making their relationship work.

•◊•

"Here you go," Neal said affectionately, handing Peter his deviled-ham sandwiches. He'd made macaroni and cheese for himself and Nicky and deviled-ham for Peter and Mike. Peter smiled at Neal as the younger man went to retrieve Mike and Nicky's plates, setting them down in their respective seats. "Boys, dinner," he called out. Michael was playing with Nicky in his bedroom, so they both bounded out of Nicky's room, eager to eat. "Geez, guys," Neal said as he watched them dive into their food. "You do get fed at school, right?"

Nicky nodded. "It's not as good as dinner from you, daddy."

Neal shook his head, heading back over to the counter to dish out his own macaroni and cheese. Peter's eyes followed his movements, but he found himself focusing solely on Neal's ass. He loved the way Neal's hips moved when he walked—or did anything that created motion. "Hey, eyes on the food," Michael teased.

Peter's face heated up and he quickly looked at his plate when Neal glanced over his shoulder. After a minute, Neal was pulling his chair out and setting his plate down. He leaned over and kissed Peter's temple before taking his seat. "You aren't very subtle, Burke."

"I should arrest you for being so perfectly formed," Peter said quietly. Neal's eyebrow raised, his lips twisting in amusement. "Why do I get the feeling I just said something I'll regret?"

Neal waved his hand dismissively. "You definitely won't regret it when I tell you what I'm thinking."

"You're both disgusting," Michael said, biting into his sandwich. "Don't be promiscuous over dinner."

Nicky looked absolutely lost in the conversation and Neal smiled at his son. Peter nudged Neal's bare feet with his and couldn't help grinning when Neal started playing footsie with him under the table. Michael knew what was going on and just sighed, shaking his head before chewing more of his sandwich. Peter's socks were slowly slipping off, which Neal was obviously trying to force. Peter put his right leg in front of Neal's legs, waiting for him to stop. When he did, he retracted his foot, then slowly slid it up the side of Neal's left leg. He got a slight thrill out of Neal's pleased shudder.

Neal tried to focus on eating while Peter teased him mercilessly. When Peter was finished eating his first sandwich, he stopped teasing, having realized that Neal had barely taken more than five bite forkfuls of macaroni. "Poppa?"

Peter looked up from Neal's midsection that was visible above the table and over at Nicky. "Yeah?"

"Can we play baseball this weekend?"

He'd been promising Nicky that they'd go soon, but Adler's trial and all of Neal's stresses had taken up most of his time—not that he had a problem with that. Adler's been behind bars for almost two weeks now and he's thrilled every time he remembers that. Neal is more relaxed now and they're all able to enjoy the better parts of life together as a result of it. "We're going to the Yankees game this weekend," he said, smiling. "If daddy and Uncle Mike feel up to staying out after the game, we could probably play."

Neal nodded. "That sounds fine to me." He'd be wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses during the game so he could fall asleep against Peter's shoulder. He really wasn't into sports, but he still wanted to go because Peter was going. Michael said he was good at baseball, so Neal felt like he'd be the only one to suck at it because Nicky would probably play much better than him since Nicky's been so excited. Nicky was getting overly excited now and Neal had to laugh, reaching over to pat the table next to Nicky's plate. "Eat your dinner, silly kid. If you don't, you won't be big and strong like poppa."

Peter smiled lovingly at Neal. They all continued eating peacefully until Michael spoke up. "Hey, Neal?" Neal glanced up from his bowl of macaroni. "I know it's a sensitive topic, but… Mom called me today. She asked me if she could talk to you."

Neal tensed, gripping his fork tightly. "I don't understand why she doesn't get it," Neal muttered. "I don't want to see or talk to her, but she keeps trying to butt in."

Michael nodded, regretting bringing up their mother. "I told her you wouldn't call her back."

"Good," Neal said, going back to enjoying his food. Peter was glancing sideways at Neal now, worried that Neal would get aggravated just at the mention of his mother.

"Daddy?"

Neal looked at his son. "Yeah, baby?"

Nicky bit his lip. "Are you gonna be mad at me if I ask to see your mommy?" Neal gaped at him, his eyes full of pain that Peter could see. He didn't know how to answer that because he never thought he'd have to. He didn't think that Nicky would even be interested in meeting his grandmother since she'd done nothing but turn her back on Neal. "Daddy?"

He realized he'd been quiet too long, so he settled for an indirect answer. "Uncle Mike or poppa can take you to see her." He set his fork down and wiped the corners of his mouth with his palm. "Excuse me," he whispered, pushing his chair back. He got up and left the table, heading into the narrow hallway to go into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and sat on the ledge of the bathtub, resting his elbows on his knees. He folded his fingers together, staring at himself in the mirror. It disgusted him that he could see parts of his mother in him.

Back in the dining area, Peter and Michael shared worried looks. Nicky was staring at the table sadly. "I didn't mean to make him mad, poppa."

Peter shook his head, getting up to shift into Neal's seat to sit beside Nicky. "He isn't mad at you, buddy," he said reassuringly, rubbing Nicky's back.

"I'll go talk to—"

"No. Just…give him a few minutes," Peter said quietly. "If he isn't back in five minutes, I'll go talk to him." Michael nodded. They all sat silently at the table. Nicky leaned against Peter, who continued to rub the boy's back. He was watching the time on his watch, concerned about his lover, but unsure if he should go check on him. Neal wasn't happy, but he didn't look furious when he'd walked out.

Just as Peter was preparing himself to get up and head towards the bathroom, Neal came back into the dining room. Peter looked over his shoulder, watching Neal's face. Neal's eyes were downcast for a moment and he slowly lifted his gaze to meet Peter's eyes. "Nick." Nicky's head snapped up and he spun quickly, his eyes wide with a bit of fear. That made Neal's heart clench. He never wanted his son to look at him like he's a monster of some sort. "My mom isn't someone you should want to get to know, but I can't deny you your grandmother anymore if you want to see her."

Peter realized how hard it was for Neal to say that, considering he'd told Maryann that he didn't want her anywhere near his son. "When can I go see her?"

Neal just stared at his son for a moment before looking away. "Eat your dinner, Nick." He wandered over to the couch in the sitting area, plopping down onto it miserably. Peter and Michael watched him. Nicky frowned. Nicky got up from the dining room table and went into his room, pulling the door closed quietly. Neal rested his elbow on the armrest of the couch, covering his face with his hand. "I called her while I was in the bathroom," he mumbled. Peter stood up and made his way over to the couch, seating himself beside Neal. "I asked her to come over. She'll be here in about fifteen minutes."

"What made you change your mind?"

"He's my son and he wants to know his grandmother," Neal said, irritation and bitterness seeping into his voice. Peter rubbed Neal's thigh and Neal swatted his hand away. "I'm not in the mood, Peter," he said quietly.

Peter sighed. "I'm not trying to get you into bed right now," he whispered. "I want to make you feel better and I don't know what to do." The room was silent for several long minutes. Neal was staring at the floor, Peter at Neal, and Michael felt uncomfortable. Before anyone realized how much time had passed, there was a light knock on the door. Peter waited to see if Neal would move first. When he didn't, Peter rose to answer it. When he pulled it open, he refrained from sighing. "Maryann," he said politely, nodding at her as he gestured for her to come inside.

She glanced around until she found Neal. "Neal?" He wordlessly looked at her. "Thank you for calling me, sweetheart."

"It wasn't for your benefit, I assure you." He pushed himself up from the couch, walked over to Nicky's room and pulled the door open gently. "Nick, your grandmother's here." Nicky looked surprised and tentatively made his way out of the room. He smiled when he saw Maryann.

She smiled at him in return, holding her hand out for him when he was close. "Hi, little darling. I'm your grandmommy." Neal's lips curled in disgust and Peter was, fortunately, the only one to see it before he schooled his expression. For the next hour, Neal was too frustrated to stay inside and watch his mother act like _his_ son's mother. He sat on the balcony alone, even after Peter asked if he could come out with him. Neal flat out told him no.

He knew he was being a selfish bastard, but he didn't understand why Nicky would want to meet her. Neal never spoke about her and hardly ever had a nice thing to say about her. He was beginning to wish he'd never gone to visit his mother in the first place. "Neal?" He bristled slightly when he heard heels clicking across the pavement. He didn't move at all, even as she sat in the chair closest to his. "I know we'll never be on good terms with each other and I'm beginning to accept that. I made too many mistakes with you that I'll regret for the rest of my life." He couldn't agree with her more. "Your son is so like you. He's brilliant and mature for his age, just like you were. He's got your dark hair with subtle curls, your beautiful eyes. His smile is—"

"Complimenting my baby isn't going to make up for all of your wrongs," he whispered. She was silent, nodding. He turned to face her then. "I'm only allowing you to see him because he asked me if he could. I swear to God, if you ever hurt him the way you hurt me, I'll never speak to you again." She nodded again and he ground his teeth. "I love him more than my own life. If anyone hurts him, they'll suffer. You may be my mother, but you were never 'mom' or 'mommy.'"

"I'm not asking you to forgive—"

"I'm not going to forgive you," he interjected, his eyes flashing. "You pushed my father out of my life and you let Adler rape me. I honestly can't figure out why you never gave me up for adoption or anything because you certainly never gave a damn about me."

She shook her head. "Your father did things that I didn't want you to grow up knowing, Neal. Ellen had no right to tell you the truth."

"At least she didn't lie to me."

Maryann nodded. "You're right, Neal. Your father killed a man and I didn't want you to grow up to be like him, so I made sure we were never in the same location as him."

"So I wasn't allowed to see my own father because he killed someone, but you allowed a rapist into our home," he said bitterly. She went silent after that, realizing how much she'd damaged her firstborn. There was no way she'd be able to repair what she'd broken. He was finished with the conversation, so she went back inside to get to know her grandson and her son's partner. She had a small flicker of hope that things could be all right someday, even if Neal resented her for the rest of their lives.


	31. Chapter 31

Peter was expecting to come home to absolute silence and hadn't been disappointed. Neal was probably upset with him…again. Peter hadn't wanted to stay out all night, but he'd been assigned to the van with Diana. Neal went home after picking Nicky up and they hadn't spoken since their lunch date. He wasn't surprised when he walked up to the apartment door to see darkness beneath it. It did make him sigh though.

He managed to unlock the door as quietly as possible, unwilling to wake Neal at four in the morning. They both had to be up and ready to go in five hours. He went inside and turned quickly to shut the door quietly. He heard music playing faintly and his brows furrowed. He turned to face the vast room to see Neal on the balcony, a dim light on the table. He smiled at the sight. Neal was painting. He hadn't been able to do that for a long time. Peter crossed the room, taking his suit jacket off and tossing it onto his chair at the kitchen table. When he stood by the threshold, he realized Neal had headphones in, so he wasn't aware that Peter was home yet.

The closer he looked at the easel, he realized Neal was painting _him._ It was fantastic, even if it made Peter sound self-absorbed. The painting was flawless. When Neal turned to clean his brush to dip into a new color, Peter took advantage of the moment. He stepped closer to Neal, leaning forward to kiss Neal's neck. He was surprised that Neal hadn't jumped or yelled at him for scaring him. Instead, Neal took his headphones out and put them on the table, smiling up at Peter. "Hey, you," he whispered. "Welcome home."

Peter kissed his lips, his tongue sliding out ever so slightly to lick Neal's lower lip. "I'm glad to be home," he said when they parted. "I didn't think you'd still be awake. It's after four."

Neal nodded, pushing himself up. He was in his white undershirt spattered with various paints and his khaki pants. He'd seen Neal dress like this once or twice when he was considering starting a new painting, but Neal didn't commit to it because something else always came up. "Bed is too cold when you aren't with me. I couldn't sleep even if I tried."

"You go get undressed and we'll curl up together," Peter said softly. He stroked Neal's biceps slowly, relishing in the warmth of Neal's bare skin.

"Will you bring the easel inside if I do that? It's supposed to rain tonight and I'm actually kind of proud of this painting. I don't want it ruined."

Peter nodded, smiling. "It's wonderful, Neal. Of course I'll save it from nature's forces."

Neal grinned, kissing Peter's jaw before heading back inside. "Should I get a condom ready?" he called out quietly, trying not to wake anybody up.

Peter laughed quietly, dragging Neal's easel back into the dining area. He set it off to the side and admired it for a moment. Neal made him look like a God. "It's late, and we need to be up early," Peter finally said. "I'm really tired and I'm sure you are, too, my sweetheart." He turned to see Neal underneath the blanket, his clothes lying on the floor. "God damn you." Neal smirked. "We'll either do something when we get up or when we come home tomorrow. Does that sound okay?"

"Sure, babe."

Peter started loosening his tie as he crossed over into the bedroom. He toed his shoes off and began to strip down to his birthday suit. He shut the light off and crawled into bed, getting under the blanket with Neal. Neal instantly curled up with him, sighing contentedly. "I like this," Peter whispered. "I like when we have time to ourselves to just relax."

"I'm happiest when I'm with you," Neal mumbled against Peter's chest. Peter was happy to hear that. Neal had been acting absolutely miserable over the last few days and that in turn made Peter miserable. He stroked Neal's back, listening to the younger man's breathing. "I love you, Peter," he whispered.

The older man smiled even though Neal couldn't see it. "As much as I love you," Peter said quietly, his hand resting on the small of Neal's back. They hadn't been expressing this as much as they used to, so Peter took advantage of that. He really couldn't bear not telling Neal he loved him because he felt it so strongly.

After a little while, Peter thought Neal was asleep, so he was preparing himself to fall asleep as well, until Neal's soft voice erupted from the darkness. "Peter?"

He startled, not expecting Neal to talk just as he thought Neal was sleeping. "Yes, hon?"

Neal rested a hand on Peter's stomach. "I've been having nightmares," he whispered. Peter's brows furrowed. Neal usually woke him up when he was having a nightmare, so why hadn't Peter woken up? "I keep seeing Adler's face. I don't know why. I know he's behind bars, but I have this feeling that he's going to just…appear out of nowhere."

Peter's arms wrapped around Neal then. "How often does this happen?" he asked gently.

"Every time I close my eyes."

He gaped in Neal's general direction. Why hadn't Neal said _anything_ before now? "Sweetheart, are you afraid to go to sleep?" Neal mumbled that he was. That was when Peter sat up, letting Neal slip off of him and onto the mattress. Peter reached over to turn his light on the nightstand on. When the light flooded the bedroom with a dimmed brightness, Neal sat up, too. He pulled his knees up, the blanket conforming to his body. "Why didn't you tell me before now?"

"I was afraid I'd upset you," Neal said, sounding embarrassed. He wrapped his arms around his knees, sighing. Peter didn't say anything, but he hoped that Neal understood that he wasn't upset when he started stroking Neal's leg. "I was absolutely terrified when I saw his face. It's worse when you aren't here."

Peter frowned. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." Neal shook his head, telling Peter silently that he shouldn't feel at fault. "I don't know how to help with this," Peter admitted. "I don't want you to be afraid to close your eyes."

Neal lifted one hand to take Peter's away from his leg, intertwining their fingers. "I'm sorry I woke you up for this."

"No," Peter said gently, scooting closer to Neal. He kissed Neal's cheek. "I'm glad you did. I don't like when you suffer. I want nothing more than to help you through this."

"I appreciate that more than you realize," Neal said, squeezing Peter's hand. They talked a little more about Neal's nightmares, enough to make Neal feel considerably relaxed. They cuddled with the light on so they could keep talking. At some point during the conversation, Neal drifted off, his head resting on Peter's shoulder, a hand on Peter's chest.

•◊•

"Hey," Peter whispered, gently shaking Neal. "Babe, you need to wake up. We're going to be late." Neal groaned. "I don't want to go to work either, but we have obligations. I already dropped Nicky and Mike off at school."

Neal hugged his pillow tighter. "Don't want to move," he moaned.

Peter sighed, shifting onto his knees on the bed. "I'm going to lay on you if you don't," Peter said. Neal shrugged and Peter rolled his eyes. He shifted once again, straddling Neal's body. He slid his hands up and down Neal's back. "Come on, Neal. No sex for you later if you don't get up."

"You're a horny bastard," Neal mumbled into the pillow. "You can't resist fucking me."

The older man figured that was probably true, but chose not to stroke Neal's ego so early in the morning. "Well, I'm going to have to try pretty hard."

Neal chuckled. "You'd explode if you did that."

"Oh, that's it." He slid off of Neal and the bed, then forcibly made Neal roll over onto his back. Neal's eyes were barely open, the sleep still evident in them. "C'mon, you," he said, torturing Neal through tickling. Neal's knees bent quickly and he tried desperately to stop Peter while he was laughing.

When he was laughing to the point where he began to cry, Peter let up, hovering over him for a brief moment before pecking his lips twice. "Fine. I'm awake," Neal muttered, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Peter's hair.

Peter chuckled, sliding over Neal to plant his feet on the floor. He pushed himself up into a standing position and turned to face his lover. Just as he was about to yank Neal out of bed, his phone started vibrating. His brows furrowed as he pulled it out of his pocket. He quickly answered. "Diana?" Neal glanced up, wondering why Diana would be calling them when they'd be at work soon. "Is the op salvageable without him?" He motioned with his free hand for Neal to get up and move quickly while he continued his brisk conversation with Diana. "I'm on my way now. I've got Caffrey. We'll back you up" Neal was tucking his shirt into his pants when Peter finally hung up.

"What's wrong?"

Neal zipped his pants, put his holster harness on, and was heading towards their makeshift closet to grab a suit jacket. "Agent Purdue was assigned to the surveillance of a warehouse. Diana was heading there to back him up and she heard gunfire—several guns." Neal buttoned himself up, nodding as he listened to Peter. When he retrieved his tie, Peter put it on for him. "She didn't want to go in alone, so she asked if I could join her. I figured three is better than two."

"Of course." Both men tucked their guns into their harnesses, their badges into the inner pockets, and finished quickly making themselves look at least moderately presentable considering they were restricted on time. They locked the apartment door and darted down the stairs. June called out to them, telling them she hoped they had a good day. They both thanked her and reciprocated the thought before locking the front door, then getting into the _Taurus._ "Because this is an emergency situation, I'm going to assume Agent Purdue is dead."

Peter nodded, starting up the car. He immediately began to drive as soon as they were able to. "There was no mistaking it is what Diana told me. These men are arms dealers, so I'm sure they're loaded to the hilt with automatic weapons. We're going to have to be extremely careful."

Neal's breath caught for a moment and he was grateful that it was a silent and unnoticeable sound. He'd been having too many nightmares about situations like this, nightmares that he hadn't discussed with Peter. He was afraid to let Peter go out alone because he kept imagining that he'd get a call from the coroner one night to tell him Peter wasn't going to be coming home to him and Nicky. The fact that they were dealing with a very dangerous group of arms dealers didn't ease his anxiety at all. "Are we the only backup Diana will have?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It'll take too long to get a team or two up here. You and I are the closest she's got."

It only took fifteen minutes to get there. They parked a block and a half away from the warehouse, walking the rest of the way. As they neared the building, they loaded their guns. Peter gave Neal a wary look before nodding his chin towards the other side of the building. Neal nodded, holding his gun firmly between his hands as he crept slowly along the side opposite Peter.

Neal heard a struggle and sped up, risking a glance around the corner. Four men had Diana cuffed and gagged in the back of a van. His heart pounded in his chest. He was so afraid that they were going to hurt her, but he didn't want to jump out and surprise them because that might get her killed faster. Much to his dismay, he heard a gun fire on the side of the building Peter was prowling. He nearly choked, his hands shaking and his stomach churning. "Got another one of those damn feds." He was _slightly_ relieved to hear Peter struggling against a couple of men. That meant he was alive. "Jim's dead. Bastard killed him on the spot."

He watched them tie Peter and cringed when one man punched Peter in the gut. "Are there any more of your buddies nearby?" another man asked. "We'd hate to leave a friend behind."

"I came alone," Peter bit out. "You're not going to get away with this. You've killed a federal agent and now you're kidnapping two more."

Neal's fingers flexed around the trigger of his gun. There were at least six men in the vicinity. He wasn't sure he could take them all down, but he could give Peter a fighting chance. Then again, he might also be the reason Peter and Diana wind up dead and that thought was less comforting than trying to be a hero.

He pulled his cell phone out and shot a text message to Jones, telling him Peter and Diana were taken captive in very few words, which is why he was taken by surprise when his neck was tased from behind. He shut his eyes tightly, lost his grip on his phone and gun, and immediately fell to his knees. He wasn't entirely sure if it was the taser or the fact that he hit the ground pretty hard, but everything went black.

•◊•

"Neal." He heard somebody calling his name repeatedly, sounding increasingly urgent each time. "Neal, damn it. If you can hear me, _please_ open your eyes." The voice sounded further away and he could've sworn it sounded just like Peter. "Babe, come on," the voice pleaded. "Wake up. Please, wake up."

Peter was bound across the room from Neal, barely able to make out his lover's features in the poor lighting. He and Diana were very aware when Neal was dragged to the van and thrown in. His temple was bleeding and it made Peter's anger flare. They'd been here for what felt like hours, so the blood on Neal's face was dried by now, but that didn't make Peter feel any better. He'd been trying to get Neal to wake up using his voice since he couldn't move any closer. "Peter," Neal moaned. He didn't open his eyes, but Peter was instantly relieved. His eyes watered when Neal groaned. "Peter?"

"I'm here, hon." Neal opened his eyes, gazing at Peter through slits. He felt really dizzy and nauseous and his head was pounding. "Are you okay?"

Neal struggled to move. His hands were bound behind him, his knees and ankles bound as well. "No. What happened?"

A soft chuckle erupted from the darkness. Peter grunted when the man came to stand behind Neal. "Hello, Neal."

Neal instantly froze, recognizing the voice. He gave Peter a terrified look, which infuriated Peter. "Craig," he whispered.

Craig crouched behind Neal, running a hand over Neal's body slowly, sounding pleased. Neal shuddered, closing his eyes. "Get the fuck away from him!" Peter cried out. Peter remembered Neal talking about a messenger Adler had sent to coordinate the initial meeting between Neal and Adler and recalled that Neal said the messenger was another man who took an interest in him. For Neal to be this terrified, Peter realized this had to be that other man. They'd just put Adler behind bars for taking advantage of Neal as a teenager and he'd be damned if he watched someone hurt Neal like that now.

"Your lover is very protective of his goods," Craig said sweetly, stroking Neal's hair. Neal made a small whimpering sound before remembering that he was _trying_ to be stronger now. He was terrified, but that didn't mean he had to give in to the terror. "Pity Vince didn't share you with me earlier on. You're pretty appetizing right now, but you were quite the temptation when you were younger." Craig gently pulled Neal's head back so he could look the younger man in the eyes, but Neal spat at him. Craig looked taken aback, his eyes wide before he decided to hit Neal's face—hard. "Little bastard. You're just like James." Neal's eyes widened at the mention of his father as Craig got up and started sauntering over to where Peter was. "Hm. If I can't have you, my dear Neal, I suppose I could just take your lover."

"No!" Neal screamed. Peter's heart broke in that moment, hearing the agony rip through Neal. "Please, no. Don't hurt him." He didn't feel above begging to save Peter. He loved that man more than anything and would do anything for Peter just as Peter always said he'd do anything for him. "You can beat me as much as you want. Just, please, don't hurt him." Craig smiled cruelly, turning to head back over to Neal. He had the feeling Craig wouldn't just _beat_ him though.

Peter was struggling across the room, trying to break free of his bindings. Craig knelt in front of Neal, stroking along his jaw. "Matt told me you were a romantic fool," Craig said. "I went to see him and Vince in prison. They both gave me a few tips to bring you down. I'm not the kind of man to kidnap your kid. That's Vince." He gripped Neal's chin harshly. "I took one of your fed partners and your fed boyfriend. I figured that should be enough motivation to do as I say."

"Keller isn't a very reliable source," Neal hissed. "If you let Peter and Diana go, I'll do whatever you want me to." He regretted saying that instantly, but he couldn't allow Peter and Diana to suffer. They didn't deserve that. One agent was already dead. Neal didn't think he could live with himself if he had two more killed. Craig laughed, shaking his head. "I swear to you," Neal pleaded. "I'll do anything if you release them."

Craig slapped Neal, hard enough to leave a handprint. Neal's mouth hung open for a moment, shocked by the blow. "You must think I'm stupid, kid. If I let them go, they'll call for backup and double back to save you." He turned on the balls of his feet to glance over at Peter. "Am I right, Agent Burke?"

Peter's upper lip was curled in disgust. "Of course, you monster."

"Please." Neal looked directly at Peter. "They won't tell anyone. Just let them go."

Craig stood up, sighing. "Jake, Terry." Two men came into the room, waiting for Craig to give them their orders. "Have Christian and Marcus accommodate the feds. Put this one in the boiler room with the woman." The two men nodded. "I want Neal upstairs."

Peter's eyes widened when one of the two men left to gather the other two. His eyes locked with Neal's own. Neal looked terrified. It was very subtle on his part, however. Peter, being his lover, noticed it. Another pair of men entered and headed directly for Peter. "Neal!"

Neal's heart leapt at how desperate Peter sounded. They pulled him up aggressively and he struggled as much as he could. Neal, being unable to do much else, mouthed 'I love you.'

In a matter of moments, Peter was taken from the room, which left Jake, Terry, Craig, and Neal. Craig was already heading towards the stairs when his two lackeys lifted Neal and carried him. He knew hell was in store for him, but he knew it would keep Peter safe for now.

Neal was thrust onto a mattress in the corner of the room they'd entered. He took a moment to observe the room and was revolted by how disgusting it looked. Craig dismissed his men then. Once he and Neal were alone, he stalked over to the mattress and sank to his knees, smiling. "You'll make such a beautiful whore," he whispered. He flipped Neal onto his stomach, chuckling. Neal's arms were beginning to hurt, especially since he'd been thrown down on top of them. "I bet you're the kind of guy who likes face to face fucking, aren't you?"

He wasn't sure he should dignify that with a response, but he did anyway. "Adler didn't care if I looked at him or not unless I was blowing him."

Craig grinned, running his hands over Neal's broad back, down his arms, and finally Neal's ass. "Oh, a beautiful whore, indeed," he said, sounding delighted.

The older man felt no remorse when he quite literally ripped Neal's clothes off. He'd cut as much as he needed to in order to get it all off without removing Neal's bindings, which left Neal absolutely exposed. He turned Neal onto his side and shifted a bit to lower his own pants and underwear, clearly and silently making his command. Neal didn't give in until Craig growled and forced his mouth open, thrusting into its heat. His vision clouded with tears as he was repeatedly gagged, Craig's hand cradling the back of his head to hold him in place. This torture was _far_ from over.

•◊•

"What do you think they're going to do to him?" Diana asked, horrified when Peter told her that they'd taken Neal to a separate room—somewhere upstairs. Peter's jaw clenched. "You already know what they're going to do," she said.

Peter nodded. "We need to find a way out of here, Di. If he has to go through all of this pain again, I don't know if my love for him will be enough to save him."

Her stomach churned at that realization. She felt terrible, knowing Neal was upstairs with a potential rapist. She mentally scoffed at herself. It was no longer 'potential' when he'd taken Neal to a secluded room. Peter filled her in on who he was and what his interest in Neal was. "We'll help him, boss. He can't spiral into that dark place again if he has you."

He let out a choked sound. "He's going to kill himself if he makes it out of here. I _know_ it. He won't be able to live with himself or with me after this." This was making him wish he'd stayed with Neal instead of separating them. He knew he'd lose Neal after all of this was over. Even if Neal said he was fine, Peter knew Neal would find the one moment Peter wasn't looking and use it to end his life. He'd feel absolutely worthless in general and to Peter as well as feeling like he's damaged goods—more so than he thought before. Peter growled, wishing he'd gone about this whole thing differently. _He_ would blame himself for Neal's rape and death in the end. Nicky and Mike would probably blame him for going back on his promise to keep Neal safe. There was nothing he could do right now and that was killing him. The only thing he could do was imagine Neal's pain and that made him sick.

"Boss…"

"I love him so damn much," he sobbed, all of his strength and resolve ebbing away. His eyes couldn't stop looking around the room for any possible way to get out of here. His 'Agent Burke' façade was falling apart at the thought of never seeing the man he'd fallen in love with again. Neal wouldn't be the same again. Without Neal, _he_ would never be the same again and he firmly believed he'd lose the only person in his life he's ever truly loved and the only young person he'd been able to call his son. Nicky wouldn't be able to look at Peter for letting Neal die. And he couldn't blame Nicky.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Neal's torture scene was edited out of this version.**

Peter knew a few days had gone by since they'd all been captured by Craig. They'd been fed, which he found ironic considering he hadn't heard a damn thing about Craig saying to keep them alive since he'd gotten what he wanted. Each time he asked about Neal, they'd ignore him. The only thing he wanted to know was whether or not Neal was still alive. The not knowing was killing him. Diana didn't know what to do to help him either. She'd tried to tell him Neal would be fine, but she was beginning to doubt that positivity herself.

They'd both gotten used to being fed at particular times throughout the day and Peter was now curious as to why their captors hadn't come to give them their makeshift dinner yet, not that food was his top priority right now. "FBI! Drop your weapons!" _Jones._ He and Diana perked up instantly, relieved to hear that deep voice of their partner. They heard guns clattering to the floor instantaneously, followed by, "Peter? Diana? Neal?"

"Jones, Diana and I are in here!" he called out. "Send a team upstairs! Neal's there!"

Jones passed along Peter's orders, darting down the corridor where the other two were. He shot the lock on the door and pushed it open, immediately crouching behind Peter to cut the bonds. He did the same for Diana a few moments later and helped them both up. "Good God. You two are in better condition than I thought you'd be in after four days."

Peter didn't respond. Despite the need to let his muscles adjust to being able to move again, his need to see Neal overwhelmed him. He rushed up the stairs and into the only room he could see, only to find it empty. Two agents were standing there, looking at him. "No one was here, sir."

Diana and Jones followed Peter, stopping as soon as they took in their surroundings. "They… They took him," Peter whispered brokenly. He stared at the mattress in the corner and found himself nearing it without his brain's consent. He stood over it and his breath hitched. There was blood on the mattress—blood and sperm. "I want this bastard ID'd as soon as possible so we can put an APB out on him," Peter growled. He was trying to be angry to hide that he was hurting very deeply inside. He had no idea how long Neal had been gone and that hurt more. If Craig had been an arrogant son of a bitch, he might've stayed here, which is what Peter had been hoping for.

•◊•

Elizabeth was right in the doorway when Peter and Diana arrived at her house. El pulled Diana in for a tight hug, whispering how relieved she was that Diana was safe and home. She belatedly realized Peter was standing behind her and instantly felt a pang of guilt. Diana had called from the FBI building to let her know that she and Peter were safe, but they couldn't find Neal. "Honey…" Peter moved in for the hug as she initiated it. She held him tightly, rubbing his back.

"Poppa?" Peter's eyes searched the house and found the little boy standing in the threshold of the living room. "Poppa!" He darted forward. Elizabeth let go of Peter just in time for Nicky to throw his arms around Peter and hug him. "Poppa," he whispered, relieved. When he pulled back, he peered around Peter's body, waiting to see his dad's smile. His brows furrowed and he frowned when he realized his dad wasn't there. "Poppa, where's daddy?"

When the boy looked up at Peter, he could see Peter's tears. He hadn't seen Peter cry before, so he knew something was really wrong. "I don't know, Nick," Peter said, his voice thick with tears. He swallowed hard, exhaling a labored breath. "We don't know."

Elizabeth ushered them all into her home, offering to get coffee for anyone who wanted any. Michael was sitting in a recliner, frowning when he saw Peter and Nicky looking very disappointed and upset. Diana sat in the other recliner while Peter took the left side of the couch. He felt like he didn't belong here with these wonderful people after he'd let a monster take Neal, but was wholly surprised when Nicky joined him and cuddled up to him. Elizabeth brought two mugs of coffee out for Diana and Peter before sitting in the empty space on the couch. "What's being done?" Michael asked gently.

Peter wrapped his arm around Nicky, holding the boy close. "We have an APB out there to search for Craig Laird. He was a friend of your father's and a…" He trailed off, his eyes glazing over. "He's another version of your father," Peter said quietly.

Michael's lips parted as he realized what Peter meant by that. "Weren't you all together?"

"They separated us. Diana and I were together, but Neal…was taken elsewhere." Nicky's tears seeped through Peter's shirt. He didn't understand what was happening to his father, but he did understand that he was probably being hurt very badly. "I'm so sorry," Peter said, rubbing his eyes. "I should have tried harder."

"Peter, there was only so much you could have done. He—"

Peter shook his head. "I didn't try to talk him out of taking Neal. I should have, damn it," he growled. Nicky's tiny hand grasped Peter's hand that hung over his torso. "I should have worked harder to get out of there to get to him. Too much time passed and we don't even know if we'll have anything to find before the week's out."

Elizabeth and Diana shared an equally saddened look. "Hon, you'll find him," El said, trying to soothe her ex-husband. "You're the only person he knows will truly go to the ends of the earth to find him."

"That won't be enough. Even if he makes it out of this particular situation, there's no telling whether or not I won't have to put him back into a God damn confinement facility again." He was embarrassed to be acting out like this, but he was terrified that he'd lose his lover forever and that their son would lose his biological father. "I…can't go on without him," Peter whispered. "I'd find a way to, but I won't be able to live with myself and believe I wasn't at fault for this."

Michael rose from the recliner and crossed the room to loom over Peter. "You aren't the one who's hurting him," he whispered angrily. "Peter, we can't risk being negative about this if we want to find him. If we think he won't make it, there's a good chance he _won't_ and if we believe he won't be able to handle a normal life afterwards, he won't even try to."

Peter nodded, exhaling heavily. "I'm afraid of what we'll find if—when we find him," he whispered. He was being deliberately oblique to spare Nicky all of the details. He didn't need Nicky to have nightmares about what could possibly be happening to the man they both loved.

Both women and Michael left Peter and Nicky alone in the living room for a little while to get dinner started. Peter assumed Michael was upset with him for being very negative about the whole situation, but Peter wouldn't be positive about this. He knew Neal was being raped again. There was no question or doubt about that. Neal told him what kind of monster Craig was once and he knew Neal was in no position to defend himself as he was bound and unarmed. "Poppa?" Peter looked down at the boy against his side sadly. "We'll find daddy, poppa," he said quietly, trying to reassure them both. "He won't leave us. He loves us too much."

Peter smiled weakly, squeezing Nicky's fingers gently. If only love could save Neal from this... "We'll find him," he said, attempting to make himself believe that. For all he knew, Neal might be dead right now. He thought he might know if Neal was dead, but he really wasn't sure what to believe. Neal was definitely in pain if he hadn't been killed yet. Neither thought helped Peter's anxiety. "Has El been taking care of you while we were gone?"

Nicky nodded. "She picked me up at school and brought me home. I wasn't sure why she wanted me to pack some clothes and toys, but I did and she brought me here." He nuzzled his face against Peter's side. "She told me she wasn't sure when you and daddy would be home, so she'd be taking care of me. We picked Uncle Mike up from school and brought him here, too. They were in the kitchen by themselves for a little while…"

"I'm going to be working on finding daddy. Until he's found, you're going to have to stay here with El and Diana, okay?"Nicky nodded.

Dinner passed by very slowly. It felt like torture to Peter, knowing he was safe, eating well, and _home._ He had everything Neal didn't. Neal was probably starving and terrified. He was definitely far from safe in Peter's eyes. If he were safe, he'd be home with them all. He'd be able to cuddle up against Peter while Peter held him, but he couldn't because Craig had taken him away. His and Diana's kidnapping had been a distraction so he could get to Neal and it _worked._ He'd barely even started eating his dinner before he excused himself and went upstairs to the guest room. He could only stare at the bed for a long time, wishing Neal was there, laying on his back and waiting for Peter. But he _wasn't._

•◊•

It had been a whole week since their captivity and they still hadn't heard a damn thing about Neal's possible whereabouts. Even with the APB out there on Craig, they heard nothing. Peter was running out of things to tell Nicky. He wasn't used to his father being gone without having a reason.

Peter sat in his office, his fingers steepled in front of his forehead, his head bowed. Fowler has been making life in the office comparable to hell, but Peter figured he could make it through this because he knew Neal was in a situation far worse than this. It rattled Peter that Fowler didn't seem to even notice that Neal was gone—didn't notice or didn't care.

When the door to his office flew open, he looked up tiredly. He'd been restless without Neal beside him at night and he couldn't help staring over at Neal's desk during the workday or driving to June's house to stand in their apartment, taking in the emptiness and lifelessness of the room. It was all painful and he felt like he deserved that pain. "Mozzie?" Peter asked, stunned to see Neal's balding friend.

He looked particularly fretful as he shut the door behind him and came to sit in front of Peter's desk. He was surprised to see Mozzie in the FBI building with his own consent. "Suit, I just got a call from a…theoretical friend." Peter's eyebrow lifted up in curiosity. "Alex broke out of prison." Peter's eyes widened. He hadn't heard anything about her breaking out and didn't understand why she'd contact Mozzie after they'd both gotten caught together, especially about Neal since she'd tried to kill him last year. "She knows where Neal is and who provided Laird with the means of kidnapping him."

"Mozzie, tell me, please."

"He's in Brooklyn." Peter's eyes widened. "I don't have all the details she has, but she wants to meet with you in person."

He and Mozzie were in the Washington Square Park not too long after their meeting in the FBI building. Mozzie came along even though Peter said Mozzie would probably be better off in the long run if he went home. "I'm sorry that I didn't protect him," Peter said as they took their seats on the bench.

Mozzie glanced at him cautiously. He'd been gone for a while, so he had no idea what was going on lately. Well, he'd heard about Adler's trial and was excited to know that Adler was behind bars. He was proud of Neal for following this through. "It's not like you abandoned him, Suit." There was a moment of silence between them before Mozzie questioned him. "Do you know if this Laird character intends on…sexually abusing Neal?"

Peter nodded slowly. "There's no doubt about it," he said sorrowfully. "He blackmailed Neal into it by threatening to hurt me…"

"Well, if you ever have to question his love for you, just remember that he did this for you."

Peter grimaced. "I don't relish in the thought that he let that monster rape him in order to save me. I could have handled the beatings. He's been raped before, as we both know, and I don't think he'll recover. Michael wants me to think Neal can make it through this, but I don't think he can. We've both seen him as a result of what Adler's done to him." Mozzie nodded slowly, recalling moments when he should have figured everything out. He'd definitely seen Neal fall apart in situations that were trivial to him. "We're going to need to keep our eyes on him. He needs to know he's loved, but I'm afraid he'll outright reject the idea that we still love him."

Mozzie was about to comment on that until he saw Alex coming closer. She stood in front of both men, her eyes locked on Peter. "You're Neal's fed boyfriend?" Peter nodded, taking no offense to the title for Neal's sake. "All right. I'm sure Mozzie told you he's in Brooklyn since that's all I gave him."

"Yes. That's all I could give him, Alex."

"Five-thirty-one Wortman Avenue," she said unprecedentedly. "It's a warehouse near the middle eastern portion of Brooklyn."

Peter nodded, texting the address to Diana and Jones, ordering them to get teams on their way over. He'd be there before them, but he wanted backup in case things went south. "Have you seen him?" Peter asked brokenly.

She lowered her gaze from his. "He's not in good shape. I can tell you that much."

Peter swallowed hard, seeing Neal in so many painful scenarios that he truly didn't want to think about. "Is there any way you could help him while we're en route?"

"If you park far enough away, I can sneak inside and cut his bindings," she said. "You would need to hurry though."

Within minutes, they were all in Peter's _Taurus._ Mozzie had Google maps pulled up on his phone and was directing Peter. They would be there in about forty or so minutes. Traffic was a bitch, which infuriated Peter. In the end, it took them an _hour._ He parked two blocks away from the warehouse, ordering Alex to text Mozzie as soon as they were able to go in. She promised him she would and took her leave, heading down to the warehouse. "You all right?"

Peter nodded. "I want to get him the hell out of there," he said firmly. "I can't let him go another day without him home—safe and sound." He kept his hand over the gun beneath his suit jacket. He'd shoot to kill and ask questions later. With Neal, there was no room to let them off easy. If they so much as attempted to barricade Neal or hurt him in Peter's presence, Peter would have them shot instantly.

He called Diana to tell her to have everyone keep their distance until he gave them the all clear to head inside. They were about twenty minutes away. As soon as Mozzie's phone vibrated, Peter's eyes were on him like a hawk. "Second floor, third room to the right," Mozzie said.

They both exited the car and started running down to the warehouse. Alex suggested that they enter the back way, so that's where they'd go. He called Diana for a second to say, "All teams _go._" He hung up after that, holding his gun in between his hands firmly. Mozzie quietly opened the door so Peter could take the point. He crept up the back stairway, disgusted by what he was seeing within this building.

When they were on the second floor, his heart started hammering away. "Suit, be careful. Your agents haven't come in yet."

"They'll be here," Peter insisted. He stopped in front of the third door on the right side of the narrow hallway. He closed his eyes when he heard Jones and Diana shouting that the FBI was surrounding the building. He pushed the door open and opened his eyes, his lips parting as soon as he took in the sight of his lover in the corner of the room. Peter darted over to him, kneeling beside the mattress. He set his gun down and touched Neal's bicep. Neal flinched and made a pained sound. "Neal, honey, it's Peter," he whispered, lightly touching Neal's bicep again. Neal wasn't looking at him and hadn't even attempted to once Peter told him who was touching him. "Hon, look at me, please," he pleaded. He carefully leaned hovered over Neal, looking over his injuries. His chest, arms, legs, and face were bruised. As far as Peter could tell, Neal was bloody _everywhere._ Peter's heart hurt as he inventoried each marking Craig left on Neal. This was…horrifying. Such cruelty to another human being was…beyond Peter. He wouldn't even attempt to understand it. All he _could_ do was try to help Neal through the pain and disgust. He would make sure Neal knew Peter loved him more than anything. Neal needed that knowledge very, very badly.

Mozzie came into the room and neared Neal, a blanket in hand. He didn't try to look his best friend over too intensely, so he simply draped a blanket he'd found in another room over Neal. "Mon frère," Mozzie whispered.

Peter looked up at Mozzie, terror in his eyes. Diana came into the room next, stopping dead in the threshold of the room. They could all smell the blood and _sex_ in the room. Peter was able to see the blood up close and it made him sick. "I'm taking him to the hospital," he whispered, wrapping the blanket around Neal. He gently pulled Neal into his arms, carrying him bridal style from the room. He'd borrow one of their FBI-issued cars instead of running back to his own. It was too far and Neal needed medical attention right away.

While Peter carried him, Neal made small sounds of protest, of agony. "Please…" he whispered.

Once he was outside, he immediately commandeered a car and set Neal in the back, helping him lie down. "Hon, you're all right," Peter said, stroking Neal's hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "I'm here. I'm going to help you."

Neal's eyes fluttered for a moment and he gave Peter a small, tormented smile. "Knew you'd find me," he said moments before his eyes closed and his breathing began to even out. Peter trembled as he continued stroking Neal's hair. He looked ten times worse than he had the last time Peter had seen him. The only small relief was that Neal had faith—in him.


	33. Chapter 33

Elizabeth stayed home with Neal for the next couple of weeks following his rescue. He hadn't spoken very much since it happened and refused to comment further on the issue other than simply saying, "Yes, I was raped." Peter had been reluctant to ask her to take care of him, but she'd asked him. They were all staying at her house for the time being, which she didn't mind at all. They were all afraid Neal would try to harm himself if they let him out of their sight for a second. Peter would go anywhere with him so Neal wasn't alone and Elizabeth would give him space, but not enough for him to consider that he was alone.

She sat on the bed beside Neal. Her legs were crossed, a hand on Neal's knee. She found it strange that he didn't shrug her off when she touched him. He didn't give her any indication that he wanted her to stop, but he'd given Peter plenty. As much as it hurt the older man, he understood. Neal barely wanted to sleep beside him and he'd been hostile, which was different. "Sweetie?" Elizabeth said softly. He dragged his eyes away from the floor to look at her face. She was grateful that his bruising was fading, but he was still scratched up a bit. He was healing well since he came home. Well, physically anyway…

"El," he whispered, "I'm sorry that you have to take off from work for me."

She shook her head. "Oh, sweetie, I took off because I wanted to. I'm worried about you and Peter's worried about you."

He nodded, lowering his eyes to the floor again. "I'm going to lose him, aren't I?"

"Why do you think that?"

He shrugged. "Because I'm a whore, El. He heard me beg to do anything to save him, so he knows I gave my consent right from the start." She took his hand, intertwining their fingers. "How can he possibly look at me now and want to make love with me, knowing I _let_ a man rape me?"

She leaned closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder. "Sweetheart, he loves you. He doesn't love you any less." She stroked his skin with her thumb slowly. "He blames himself for this, you know. He feels like he should have fought harder to get to you."

Neal shut his eyes tightly. "It isn't his fault," he hissed. "I'm the—"

"—sweet man who loves his boyfriend enough to let himself get hurt," she interjected. "He loves you very much. He barely rested while you were gone. He needed you here." Her other hand came around to rub his arm. "He's afraid you're going to do something to hurt yourself. He doesn't want to lose you, sweetie."

Neal exhaled heavily. "I feel like he's going to leave me, Elizabeth."

She shook her head. "He hasn't even considered it."

He was grateful to hear that. He wanted to hear it from Peter though because that would mean so much more to him, even though he's been avoiding Peter like the plague. He and El laid on the bed together. Her head rested on his chest and he wondered how he'd gotten so close to his boyfriend's ex-wife. It was nice that they both felt comfortable enough to maintain a friendship after the divorce, but he'd never expected to build a friendship of his own with this wonderful woman.

At some point, he realized Elizabeth had fallen asleep. His arm was draped around her shoulder, his other hand resting above the one she'd placed on his stomach. When he was sure she wouldn't wake up, he shifted her over onto the other side of the bed and slipped out. He grabbed his phone and texted Peter, "Hey. How's work?"

He was getting dressed in the bathroom, fixing his tie and hair. He adjusted his cufflinks while he waited for Peter's reply. When his phone buzzed, he was just about to head out the door. "_Sitting in my office. Bored without you. How are you feeling?_"

Neal smiled weakly. "I'm okay. Need to talk to you though."

He was leaving the house, grabbing a taxi, and en route when Peter texted him back. "_Should I be concerned?_"

Neal wrote back, "No. Just want to open up to you."

Peter sent him, "_Okay, hon,_" with a smiley face.

In half an hour, he was in the FBI building's elevator, heading up to the twenty-first floor. He stepped out and immediately received disbelieving stares from a couple agents—Diana and Jones included. He didn't see them entirely, however. His eyes were on Peter as he walked through the bullpen and up the stairs. When he opened Peter's door, the older man gave him a startled look before standing. "Sit," Neal said gently, shutting the door behind him. Peter slowly complied as Neal took the seat in front of Peter's desk.

"Hon, you should be resting at—"

"I want to be here," Neal insisted. He rested his hands on the desk, sighing heavily. "I'm really sorry for being so…not me. I love you, Peter." Peter smiled at him. "I want things to go back to normal. I'm…I have to admit that I'm going to need your help, Peter."

Peter nodded. "You know I'm here for you," Peter said sincerely. "I'm not going to ask you to relax in a matter of weeks. It'll take time and I want to be there through it all."

Neal clasped his hands together and smiled forcibly. He was terrified to talk to Peter about this. This was far worse than it had been when he'd told Peter about Adler. Talking about Craig would open wounds that were just beginning to heal. "I want to work with you today and then…and then…" Peter's eyes were reassuring when he stared into them. He wasn't making any move to touch Neal to physically comfort him and that made him internally cringe. "Can we talk about it tonight?"

"Of course." Peter stood up and Neal's breath hitched. He was trying to remember that he was with Peter. Peter was looking down at him, and that was terrifying in itself. "Neal?" Neal sucked in his breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "Honey, it's okay," Peter said, holding his hands up in a gesture of innocence. He didn't want to scare Neal anymore than he already had.

Neal swallowed hard, his shoulders tensing. "I know." Peter tentatively stepped closer to him. He was truly afraid that he'd hurt Neal without even touching him. "Peter, I'm okay. I know I'm with you." He said that mostly to reassure himself. He did know who he was with, that didn't mean he couldn't feel Craig's phantom touches.

"If I touch you…" Peter frowned, feeling like he was being really insensitive to Neal's situation. "If I kiss or hug you, am I going to hurt you?"

"I don't know," Neal admitted. His throat felt like it was constricting. Peter actually wanted to touch him? "When you look at me now, what do you think of me?" he asked unprecedentedly.

Peter sat on the edge of his desk, right in front of the younger man. "I think you're perfect," he whispered sincerely. "I see a man who's done so much for the people he loves, who's sacrificed so much to—"

Neal shook his head. "Don't tell me that."

The older man looked perplexed. "Neal, I mean it. If you think I'm disgusted with you, then you should be prepared to be disappointed." He started to reach out to stroke Neal's hair, but thought better of it at the last possible second, retracting his hand to rest it on his thigh. "I still love you more than my own life. That hasn't changed."

"Peter, how can you possibly want to stay with me?" he asked brokenly. He'd felt fine until Peter asked about such simple touches. He felt too vulnerable, but he could afford to be vulnerable with Peter—the only man he trusted more than anyone else.

"I'm loyal," Peter said. "I couldn't leave you even if I tried. I love you as much as I did when I woke you up that morning. I'm so sorry for what you had to go through." He bowed his head, blinking back tears as he saw the terror in Neal's eyes as he laid bound on the floor. It hurt his heart so much because he'd promised Neal that nothing like this would happen to him as long as Peter was alive and he'd _failed._ "I still want you," Peter whispered. "I want you to be my lover, my boyfriend, my best friend, and someday my _husband._" He paused, his eyes widening slightly. "If you still want—"

"I do," Neal interjected. "I want to be with you—all of those things." He swallowed, forcing himself to look into Peter's eyes. "I didn't think you'd still want to…marry me," he added quietly, squeezing his own hands tighter nervously.

Peter reached out again and stopped short, but Neal leaned forward and lifted his hand to grab Peter's, holding it against the side of his face. His eyes closed and his breathing was labored, but it was nice to feel Peter. The older man's breath hitched when Neal nuzzled his face against Peter's palm. "I do," Peter said. "As soon as it's legal, I want to."

Neal smiled. "It's nearly halfway through twenty-ten. It can't be more than a few years away," he whispered. He kissed Peter's palm, opening his eyes to look at Peter through slits. He was trying to hide how terrified he was of this whole situation, but it wasn't _Peter_ he was afraid of. Peter was smiling sweetly at him—sincere sweetness, too. He didn't have the intention to smile and use that smile to inflict pain on him. Peter _loves_ him.

Moments later, Peter's phone started buzzing. "Burke," he said upon answering. He listened to the frantic voice on the other end. Elizabeth was scared to death that Neal had run off and gotten himself killed since he wasn't there with her. She kept repeating that she shouldn't have fallen asleep until he interjected, "El, honey, listen. Neal's with me. He's all right." She was instantly relieved and apologized for letting Neal slip out of her sight when she was supposed to be watching over him. "Don't worry about it. If you want to make up for it, you can pick the boys up from school. Does that sound okay?" She immediately agreed with that and he offered to bring takeout home for dinner for the six of them. He, Neal, Nicky, and Mike would all be back in their apartment soon enough. He just wanted Neal to relax in a different, soothing environment.

They worked on reports together for the duration of the workday. Peter requested that they be put on desk duty so Neal wouldn't get himself into a situation he couldn't handle right now. Everyone knew what happened to him. Since Peter was highly respected amongst the agents in the bullpen and because Neal is his boyfriend, nobody looked at Neal as though they were revolted by the sight of him. He asked that they act as normal as they can with him. He didn't want them to look at Neal negatively, but he knew Neal didn't want to be pitied either. Peter came up the stairs after cleaning Neal's coffee mug. "Ready to go home, hon?" he asked gently as he stood in the doorway of his office. Neal turned to look at him and Peter recognized the look. "Hey, it's okay," he whispered. He stepped further into the office, watching as Neal's eyes tracked his every movement. "What's on your mind?"

Neal swallowed hard and audibly. "You scared me," he whispered, sounding ashamed. He lowered his gaze to the floor and sighed. He slowly rose from his chair and went over to Peter. Peter didn't know how to help the situation because he didn't want to scare Neal more. He waited for Neal to make the next move, which was Neal wrapping his arms around Peter's waist, resting his head below Peter's chin. "Can you promise me you'll keep me safe?" he asked pathetically—pathetically to himself, at least.

Peter rubbed Neal's back, breathing slowly. "I promise, darling," he whispered. "I know I failed you before, but I'll keep you safe. I won't let you out of my sight." He heard Neal's labored breathing and felt terrible. He didn't like that Neal was so afraid. He'd been fine for the most part when they'd gotten together. It'd been nearly two decades since Adler had raped him, so he'd had time to readjust to a normal life and try to get past it. _This_ was a fresh horror that Neal was still reliving. He wouldn't be able to readjust quickly and Peter wasn't sure how stable he'd be later on since this was the second time he'd been raped by someone he knew.

He felt Neal's tears seeping through his suit and he refrained from hugging Neal tighter. Before, that had been a gesture of comfort. Now, he wasn't so sure that Neal would see it that way. It might terrify him—being held too tightly and feeling like it was against his will. "Good to see you back, Caffrey." Neal jumped, immediately clutching the back of Peter's suit jacket tighter as he stepped back. Peter turned them slowly. Fowler was standing in the doorway, looking Neal over like he was some kind of experiment.

"Thanks," Neal muttered. Under his breath so only Peter could hear him, he added, "We can go now."

Neal let go of Peter for a moment, only to take Peter's hand and grip it tightly. He started heading out of the office, but Fowler stood in his way. He was observing Neal intently and it was making the younger man's skin crawl. The more Fowler stared at him, his fear began to spiral out of control. "Move, Fowler," Peter said firmly. His eyes were on Fowler, narrowed, but he kept his hands on Neal to reassure the younger man.

"Heard about what happened to you," Fowler said. "Sorry to hear it."

"You're sorry?" Neal stammered. "You sound really insincere—and I don't need your pity," he spat. Neal's hands were trembling and his legs threatened to give out just then as well.

Fowler nodded. "I guess it's a good thing you're still alive. I don't think I could handle being raped by two men in my—"

Neal growled, letting go of Peter entirely. He lunged at Fowler, gripping his suit jacket tightly, the fabric bunched up in his trembling fingers. "This is _none_ of your business," he hissed. "You have no right to dig into my life and I want you to stay _out_ of it." Fowler was smirking at him and Peter realized he was trying to get a rise out of Neal. "I bet you'd be more sympathetic if _you_ were raped," he added bitterly.

"Are you threatening to rape me, Caffrey?"

Neal's eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise. But then he looked disgusted by the question. He shoved Fowler back, clenching his hands into fists. "I'm not that kind of person," Neal said. "Even if I was, you're not my type. I don't fuck bastards."

Peter touched Neal's shoulder gently, trying to get him to come back down from his anger. "A lot of people like to fuck bastards though," he said pointedly. Peter could've sworn he heard something inside of Neal snap, and he actually might have. He flew forward, wrapping his arms around Neal's chest, holding him back.

"Neal, calm down," Peter whispered. Neal was thrashing against Peter's grip, making agonized and infuriated sounds. Peter understood, but he didn't want Neal to fall to the darkness. "Hon, listen to me. You need to calm down." Neal's breathing hitched repeatedly and Peter realized he was sobbing—or trying not to, anyway. Fowler was looking at him, amused. Neal stopped fighting against Peter and bowed his head, sucking in deep breaths. He looked up from Neal's slumping form to see the amusement on Fowler's face as well as the concern of the agents within the bullpen. Diana was struggling to keep herself from running up the stairs to help and Peter shook his head at her. "Let's go, hon. We're done here."

He straightened Neal up and held him close, shoving Fowler aside so they could finally leave the doorway. Neal was leaning heavily against him as they waited for the elevator. He was covering his face, ashamed and angry. "Just leave me somewhere," he said miserably when they were in the elevator. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve anybody."

Peter shushed him, leaning Neal back against the wall. He cupped Neal's cheeks in his hands and stared into Neal's stormy blue eyes. "You deserve me," Peter said. "You deserve a lot of things, hon."

"Just forget about me," Neal choked out. "I'm not normal. I'm broken and no one—"

"Neal George Caffrey," Peter said firmly, waiting until he had Neal's full attention. "You are the love of my life, the man I want to call my husband, and my very best friend. You _are_ normal." He stroked Neal's cheekbones, wiping tears away. "I'm not going to let you go without a fight. I can tell you that right now."

Neal held Peter's elbows, his eyes never leaving Peter's chocolate brown eyes. He found comfort in Peter's eyes, for whatever reason. He didn't want to believe what Peter was saying, but he could see in those beautiful, brown orbs that Peter meant every word he was saying. He truly felt what he was saying. "I…"

The elevator opened and Neal startled at the sound. "We'll talk in the car," Peter whispered, stepping back. He held his hand out for Neal, keeping it further away in case Neal didn't want to grasp it. When Neal did, he led him out of the elevator, out of the building, and walked him to the car. As soon as they were both inside, Peter turned to face Neal. "What Fowler said in there… Neal, it was all very uncalled for. I'm going to be talking to Reese in the morning. He was very unprofessional and insensitive."

"I can't help thinking that maybe I deserved this," Neal said quietly, staring at the dashboard. "I don't know what I did, but—"

"No one deserves this," Peter said. "You're a sweetheart, Neal. You couldn't have done anything to deserve this. You were thirteen when Adler hurt you." Neal's eyes glazed over and Peter reached out to stroke his fingers up and down Neal's hand. "At thirteen, you were innocent. He took advantage of you for being young. He abused your feelings for your mother to get you to allow him to do those things to you." His fingers curled around Neal's then. "What Craig did to you was no different. You're older than you were then, but he used me to hurt you," he said sadly. "He's behind bars for a very long time now. I wish I could take back what happened to you. I wasn't there to see it, but I saw the damage he did to you—your body, your feelings, and your mind."

Neal blinked rapidly. "Are you saying I'm mentally unstable?"

Peter gaped at him. "Not by any means, hon. I'm—I… Neal, all I meant was that he—"

"You meant he destroyed my body and my mind. I'm no good to you or anybody else," Neal bit out. "You wouldn't want to touch me and I can see why you think you need to act cautious around me and take care of me. I don't need to be coddled. I'm an adult and—"

"—you need help," Peter interjected. Neal stared at him in disbelief. "I won't send you to a mental facility or call a psychologist to evaluate you. I'm not going to make you do anything like that, but I'm going to be here for whatever you need." He sighed heavily. "I know you think I'm belittling you right now, but I need you to understand my position. I have to watch you fade in and out of reality continuously, wishing I could take your pain away. I wish I could have saved you. I blame myself for what happened to you, Neal, and I'm never going to be sorry enough for letting it happen." Neal looked away, biting his lip. "I'm frightened by the thought that I'm going to lose you. I don't know what I'd do without you, but I want you to know that I love you. I never stopped loving you and I'll never be able to stop. You think so little of yourself, but you're my world," Peter whispered. "I love you more than anything. Your son loves you. Your brother loves you. Mozzie, El, and Di love you." Peter closed his eyes, rubbing his thumb across Neal's knuckles. "You have so many people who love you, Neal. My parents, my sister, your mother… You have a family."

Neal lifted his right hand to rub his eyes, his lips parting for a shaky breath. "Peter…" He sucked in a deep breath, trying to think of how to say 'thank you' with a great deal of meaning. Instead, he broke down. He was alone with Peter, so he didn't have to worry about people staring at him—witnessing his weakness. Peter didn't give a damn about his weakness. Peter always supported him and he trusted Peter with his life. Peter reached out and Neal leaned towards him, sobbing. "I can't shake the feeling that I'm pushing everyone away," he stammered. "I'm disgusted with myself—more than I was before." Peter was stroking his hair soothingly, letting him talk without interruption. "I went twenty years without telling anyone but my mom and doctor about Adler before I met you. Everyone knows about that now because you helped me put him in prison." He sighed, shutting his eyes tightly. "I didn't even have the chance to hide what Craig did. He fucking raped me and everyone knows it. I wish they didn't, Peter. I really wish they didn't because I—I want to be Neal Burke, the FBI agent who's able to bring down the bad guys. I don't want to be the guy everyone expects to run away in terror at the first opportunity he's given."

Peter's heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he caught what Neal said. He didn't think Neal realized it and he wasn't going to comment on it even though it thrilled him to no end to know that Neal wanted to marry him as much as he wanted to marry Neal. "Hon, you don't have to hide a damn thing," Peter said softly. "I'll kick everyone's asses if they so much as look at you like they expect that. You're a good, strong man. You've been knocked down and kicked while you were down repeatedly in your life, but you still manage to pick yourself up." He kissed Neal's hair, resting his cheek against its soft darkness. '_I want to be Neal Burke,_' kept echoing in his mind as he held Neal close. "You're never going to be alone, Neal. I told you that you have so many people who love you. We all love you unconditionally. If you think the worst of everyone, at least remember that I love you too damn much to consider leaving."

Neal nodded, laughing lightly. "You truly are an angel sent from above," he whispered. "I trust you—I believe you." Peter smiled and Neal could feel it. "I love you, Peter, and I'm so grateful to have you in my life." He smiled, too. He could—_would_ survive this.


	34. Chapter 34

Six months after it happened, Neal was actually starting to feel better. He still hated himself on occasion, but he didn't feel the same as he did after Adler raped him. He was working on adjusting his poor social abilities as well as returning to a state of normalcy. He thought it was because he was in a better mental state as a thirty-three year old than he was as a thirteen or sixteen year old at first, but then he realized it wasn't that. It was his _family._ He hadn't had this kind of support the first time. Peter, El, Di, Mike, Nicky, and Peter's parents were wonderful. He never felt truly alone and he was able to admit to them when he felt uncomfortable outside or warned them that he was getting anxious in large crowds.

He was sitting on his bed, back against the headboard, looking down at Peter. He'd been trying so hard over the course of the past few months to get himself back into the normalcy of sex with Peter, but it wasn't working just yet. It would get better in time, he knew. Peter was too wonderful at times, he thought, but he appreciated that. Matthew, Garrett, or any of the others wouldn't have cared if he was afraid to lie down beneath them and let them have their way with him. Peter never pushed the issue, which didn't surprise him at all.

It was nice when he was able to enjoy sex with Peter, but too often did he feel like he was being used against his will, falling back to the nightmares of what Craig did—even what Adler did sometimes, too. He wasn't sure which of the two was worse and it made him nauseous when he tried to compare them. "I can almost hear you thinking," Peter mumbled into the pillow, inhaling sharply as he started to shift onto his side to stare up at Neal with sleep still in his eyes. "You okay?"

Neal nodded slowly. "Woke up early and didn't want to get out of bed."

Peter slid his hand over Neal's midsection, tracing the muscles he could feel. "You didn't thrash in your sleep last night," Peter said gently, blinking slowly. "No nightmares?"

Neal shook his head. "You held me differently last night," he commented. "Your arms surrounded me and made me feel…safe. I could feel your heartbeat and I knew everything was okay. I didn't have a reason to panic."

Peter smiled. "Anything you want to talk about while everything's still quiet and we're alone?"

Neal slid down the bed until Peter was on his back and Neal was able to rest his head on Peter's chest. "I've been thinking a lot about the last few months," he began. "I don't know how to thank you for all of this—or any of you, for that matter. I might not have made it out of this one if not for all of you."

"I told you that you're loved, hon," Peter whispered. "Nobody's going to judge you in our circle of family. We all know you aren't at fault and we're all more than willing to be here for you as you need us."

He breathed slowly, resting his hand on Peter's stomach. "Speaking of family… Thanksgiving? Are they still coming down?"

Peter chuckled. "Yes. They're excited to see us again," he said softly. "We haven't seen them since last Christmas. I think my mom will go insane if we ask to avoid them on Thanksgiving."

"I wouldn't suggest that we do," Neal replied. "I feel like they're my own parents sometimes—all the emails they've been sending me." Peter laid his hand atop Neal's and sighed contentedly. "I never had this kind of family support, Peter, so this means a lot to me."

Peter tugged on Neal's arm until the younger man shifted up so he could kiss Neal. "This is our family," he whispered. "I told you last year that you're my family. I would have forced them to accept that if they hadn't by the time we left them at Christmas because they needed to understand that I'm not leaving you just because they didn't think I was really gay." They stared into each other's eyes, a soft expression on both of their faces. "I found my soulmate in you," Peter whispered, lifting a hand to caress Neal's cheek.

Neal grinned at him. He always loved to hear Peter say things like that, especially if he was feeling pretty shitty about himself. "I found mine in you," Neal said, feeling lame. "I'm absolutely positive that there's no one in this world I could ever fall in love with except for you now that I'm with you."

The older man tentatively rolled them over, hovering above Neal's body. He searched Neal's eyes for a moment before kissing him. Their eyes closed and Peter tilted his head for the perfect angle. Neal's hands came up to hold onto Peter's sides. His lips parted, giving Peter permission to slip his tongue into Neal's mouth, which he promptly did seconds later. Peter's right hand was carding through Neal's hair, making sure Neal was all right as this was all happening. He knew he was treading on thin ice with Neal at times because he didn't know when the sudden urge to run would overwhelm Neal's senses. When that urge hit, Peter had to do everything in his power to keep Neal there—without seeming like he wanted to take advantage of him, which was tough.

A knock on the door made Peter groan. He slowly pulled away from Neal, brushing his hair out of his face. He searched Neal's eyes again, just to make sure he wasn't scaring his lover. When Neal smiled at him, he pecked Neal's lips and slid off of the bed. Peter pulled his sleep pants on and walked over to the door, opening it. "Good morning, Suit."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Good morning, Mozzie."

Mozzie gave Peter a questioning look, then asked as quietly as he could manage, "How is he today?"

Peter glanced over at the bed to tell Neal he'd be right back before stepping out into the hallway with Mozzie. "He seems like he's doing all right. We were having a very nice moment, until you showed up. It's like you _know._"

The balding man glared for a moment. "I didn't ask before, but did he…get checked up after he came back?"

"Yes. He had me drive him down to DC to see his doctor. Everything came back okay." Peter frowned. "He cried when we got his results. He was so relieved and I think part of him really thought he'd gotten something. I feel like that was a minimal issue in our sexual relationship and I'm glad it's resolved."

Mozzie nodded. "We talked once about the AIDS scam—briefly. He didn't like talking about it, which I understand. He doesn't like the idea of getting infected with something he could give to you."

"I know that," Peter said gently. "I love him for being so cautious. I'd never do anything to risk his health."

"I'm really glad you're gay," Mozzie said unprecedentedly. "He's happy with you, Suit. I've known him since… Well, I've known him practically forever. He's never been as happy as he is with you." He was surprised further when Mozzie gave him a quick, half hug. "Thanks for being here for him—for being his partner in every sense of the word."

Peter gave him a small smile before they went into the apartment. "Hon, Moz is—" His words died on his lips when he looked over at the bed, finding it empty. He quickly walked over to Nicky's room, looking in to see Michael and Nicky still sound asleep. That was when he heard the shower running. "Shit," Peter muttered after closing the door the way Neal always did. Mozzie looked concerned and Peter shook his head. "He's in the shower. It's getting better, but he's still in there a lot."

Mozzie nodded in understanding. "Have you talked to him about it?"

"Yeah. He feels…unclean, so he repeatedly showers. It worried me that he was hurting himself while he was in the shower, but he's not a fan of cutting. He actually told me to check his body for cuts," Peter said quietly. "As far as I can tell, he hasn't done any self-harm. He's eating on an almost regular basis now, which is great. Sleeping through the night is getting better, too."

"That's great."

Both men sat on the couch as they waited for Neal to come back. Peter's eyes scanned the bed, looking for any sign that Neal might've left behind to express any pain he felt. He couldn't find anything. Neal normally fixed the bed after getting up and he hadn't, so that surprised him a bit. He heard the shower turn off and glanced towards the hall. About two minutes later, Neal came back into the living area. He paused, towel in hand, when he saw Mozzie. "Hey," Neal said hoarsely.

They jumped to their feet and startled Neal. He hit his back on the doorframe and his lips parted in surprise. Peter held his hands out in front of him, realizing he'd moved too fast for Neal's comfort. The sound of Neal's voice worried him though. He didn't sound like that unless he'd been crying. "Hon, are you okay?"

Neal cleared his throat, blinking rapidly as his chest heaved. "Yes."

Peter tentatively stepped closer to him until he was able to touch Neal's neck. "Did something happen?" he whispered, seeing the telltale signs that Neal had indeed been crying up close. Neal shook his head, avoiding eye contact with Peter. "Don't lie to me," he said softly.

"I don't want to talk about it," he muttered, walking past Peter to grab a shirt he'd pulled out. Peter watched him carefully. Neal rarely told him he didn't want to talk about whatever was going on. When he did, he knew he should be concerned. "Peter, stop staring," he whispered. Mozzie was silently standing in front of the couch, watching his best friend carefully.

He didn't listen to Neal, but he should have. Staring made Neal feel like an object—a sex object more often than not as of late. He saw how Neal's shoulders tensed dramatically, the young man's face covered in a layer of barely controlled agony. "Neal—"

Fear was the only thing he could see a moment later when he stared at Neal's face. And in a flash, Neal was running for the narrow hallway. Peter, eyes widened, threw his arm out and pulled Neal to him, circling his arms around Neal's torso. "Let me go!" Neal cried. "Please. Please, let go." Peter held him, knowing Neal needed him despite his protests. Neal was fighting against his strength, trying to break free of his vice-like hold. "Please, stop…" he whispered brokenly, his mouth hanging open in a silent cry.

Peter felt like this episode of terror and anxiety was his fault. He'd scared Neal initially and then pushed him further by staring at him as though he wanted to inflict pain. Neal would see it like that even though Peter claimed it was pure concern on his part. "Neal, honey," he whispered near Neal's ear. "You're safe. You're at home. I've got you."

Neal's breathing was ragged while Peter kept repeating that Neal was all right, that nobody was hurting him. He tried to reassure his lover repeatedly and wondered if he was pushing Neal further into his spiral of anxiety. It wouldn't have been the first time in the past few months. He didn't like when this happened though. It bothered him, burned him to the core, to see Neal struggling to stay calm. It was like he had to wear a mask out in public if he thought he might break in situations that could come up. The mask was slowly cracking day by day and Peter was always fortunate that Neal's breakdowns were at home. Hell, even if they were in the car, Neal only felt comfortable around him enough to talk through it and eventually calm down. Mozzie spent a Saturday afternoon with Neal a couple months ago while Peter went to drop Nicky off at Trenton's house and Neal had one of his anxiety attacks. He hadn't been able to relax, even as Mozzie told him he was calling Peter.

He couldn't calm down until he saw Peter, until he felt Peter. His throat felt constricted, his heart ready to explode, and he felt absolutely nauseous when he was alone with anyone else. Neal sighed heavily, relaxing against Peter. Peter's hands were on Neal's chest while holding Neal's back against his own chest. "Peter?" Neal whispered breathlessly.

"I'm right here," Peter said gently. "Talk to me."

Neal's hands came up to rest above Peter's. "I-I could feel him," he stammered. "You left and I felt him—inside me, on top of me." Neal shuddered, shutting his eyes tightly. "He was scraping his nails across my back and it felt like _fire._" When he opened his eyes, he desperately tried to pull away from Peter. Peter assumed Neal was having another anxiety attack until Neal cried, "I'm gonna be sick."

Peter let him go and Neal darted over to the kitchen sink, heaving into it. The older man stood behind him, his hands on Neal's back, gently rubbing patterns across the fabric of the shirt. "Neal?" Neal whimpered when he finished, but he still hovered over the sink, staring down into it. He snarled in disgust and turned the water on, washing it all away. Peter's right hand was on Neal's right hip, caressing the bone. Neal's hands were spread across the countertop, supporting his weight as he arched over the sink. "Hon?" Neal shook his head and Peter's brows furrowed.

"I'm sorry," Neal whispered. "I should know better."

"Don't say that," Peter pleaded. "This is okay."

"Seeing Craig instead of you is okay?" Neal asked bitterly, turning to glare at his lover.

Peter frowned, his eyes never leaving Neal's. He had to maintain eye contact so Neal knew he was sincere. "You're seeing me right now and that's what matters."

Neal shuddered, shaking his head. "I thought…" he trailed off. "I don't know what I thought," he amended a moment later. Peter nodded, rubbing Neal's hip. "I hate this, Peter. I really do. I don't know how we're going to last if I keep seeing the rapist instead of you. It won't work. Eventually, you'll just think I'm fantasizing about him."

"I don't think that at all," Peter said firmly. "He scares you, Neal. I'm sorry that I don't help matters, but I'm not going to leave you because you're seeing him instead of me sometimes. All I can do is try to make you see me when that happens."

"How can you be so willing to stick around with all of my insanity?"

Peter slid his hand away from Neal's hip, sliding his arm around Neal's waist. He leaned closer and pressed a chaste kiss against the corner of Neal's mouth. "Because I know you'll make it through this. I have faith in you."

"How?"

He smiled. "I've seen you make it through a lot. Adler, Nicky's school, all of the injuries you've received while you were on the job, your mother… This is just another painful thing to overcome." He kissed Neal's temple next. "If you didn't think you could do it, too, you wouldn't be here right now," he whispered.

Neal nodded, knowing Peter was right. There were times when he doubted he'd be able to survive the nightmares, the constant reminders that he was dirty, but there were also times when he'd look at Peter or at Nicky and _know_ he needs to push himself for them. He wants Peter to be proud of him and he wants to set an example for Nicky, even if he feels weak in Nicky's eyes. Nicky looked at Neal reverently and said he'd never hate Neal. "Love you, daddy," a small voice whispered from across the room.

He startled and glanced over to see his son standing by his bedroom door, holding onto it as he stared into the kitchen. "I love you, too, Nick," Neal said softly, his heart slowly coming down from its track run. "Did I wake you up?" Nicky shook his head, coming out. He walked over to Neal and took Neal's left hand, standing between him and Peter. "What's up, baby?"

Nicky slid between Neal and Peter, nuzzling his face against Neal's stomach. He still held Neal's hand, smiling when Neal started stroking his hair. "Nothing. Just want you to know I love you. A lot."

He tentatively looked up at his father, seeing the soft, grateful smile on Neal's face. Mozzie crept towards the door, wanting to leave the small family alone. He understood how much help and love Neal needed and was willing to provide Neal with both of those things when he had the chance. Right now, Neal just needed his family. "Moz," he said as Mozzie was beginning to pull the door open. The short man stopped and turned. Neal wasn't even looking at him and he knew Mozzie was leaving. "Come here," he whispered, looking at Mozzie now.

Mozzie closed the door fully and slowly made his way over to his best friend. "Mon frère?"

Neal smiled weakly at him. "You don't have to leave. I hope you know that."

"I do," Mozzie said defensively. "I just… It looked like everything was under control."

He shook his head. "Doesn't mean you have to leave. I love you, too, Moz."

"Je t'aime aussi, mon frère." Neal smiled warmly at his friend.

•◊•

Peter walked back into the apartment a little after two in the morning. He'd gone out when Neal went to bed, hoping he could find a good movie to watch together over the weekend or some nice clothes so he could offer to take Neal out on a date. After three hours, the best he had was _Brokeback Mountain_ and a new tie for Neal. They'd been together for over a year now and he still had no idea how to show Neal how much he appreciates the younger man. Their anniversary had been perfect, or so Neal said. Peter thought it was an absolute catastrophe. He tried to cook for Neal and ended up burning a good portion of it as well as failing to add the proper tasteful ingredients that Neal knew to put in. He felt like a fool, especially when Neal chuckled at him, but Neal didn't criticize him. He thanked Peter for everything, for staying with him through it all, and said that Peter's love was all he needed.

He glanced up as he turned away from the door and stopped dead. Neal was painting. His headphones were in and he was absolutely focused. Peter quietly set the tie and movie down on the kitchen table, watching Neal on the balcony. He cocked his head to the side to see what Neal was painting. He didn't know what he expected, but he definitely wasn't expecting such a dark painting. The man in the painting was faceless, bruised and bloodied on the floor. Neal painted out a trail of blood in splatters across the wooden floor that spelled out '_I'm sorry._' He wanted to stop Neal, but he wasn't sure if this was part of his healing process.

A quick look down at Neal's feet told him Neal had been quite frustrated with this particular image. There were at least four drafts crumpled up and ripped up on the ground. After a few more strokes, Neal stepped back to look at the painting. He exhaled shakily, bowing his head for a moment. He inhaled sharply. "Hold me now," he whispered. "It's hard for me to say I'm sorry. I just want you to stay." He started rubbing his eyes. "After all that we've been through, I will make it up to you. I promise to," he said sincerely. It was then that Peter realized Neal was singing the song he was listening to. "And after all that's been said and done, you're just the part of me I can't let go." His voice sounded hoarse as he continued. "Couldn't stand to be kept away just for the day from your body. Wouldn't wanna be swept away. Far away from the one that I love."

Unable to stand there and watch any longer, Peter stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Neal's waist moments after Neal repeated '_hold me now._' Neal froze for a moment and then relaxed, taking his headphones out. He turned his face to nuzzle his skin against Peter's. Peter didn't say anything for quite some time. He just held Neal, Neal's back pressed against his chest. He watched Neal close his eyes, his lips curving into the small smile that Peter loved. He kissed Neal's temple, sighing quietly. "Neal, I love you so very much," he whispered.

Neal turned in Peter's arms, hugging him. "I love you just as much," he said softly.

"I hope you believe me when I say you have nothing to be sorry for and that I'm _never_ going to leave you." He kissed Neal's forehead, down the bridge of his nose, and planted one last kiss on Neal's nose.

"I believe you." Neal opened his eyes, staring into Peter's. "Sometimes, I don't, but I always do in the end because I know you're a wonderful man—and that you're too damn good for me."

Peter chuckled. "You're damn good," he retorted. "I'm barely at the point where I'm able to deem myself 'good enough.'"

Neal shook his head, sighing as he gave Peter another small smile. "You sell yourself short, Superman."

They stood in silence for a little longer, Neal shifting his weight occasionally while holding onto Peter tightly. "Can I ask you why you were painting that?" Peter asked gently, hoping Neal wouldn't get defensive or angry.

The younger man nodded. "It's kind of like looking at things from a third person's perspective. I'm sure you figured out already that I was painting myself."

"Yes," Peter whispered. "But…the blood?"

Neal sighed. "When I was in that room, I think—I'm pretty sure I was hallucinating. I saw you in there with me, but you were so far away." Peter rested his cheek on the crown of Neal's head. "You never spoke to me. You just looked…you know." _Disgusted._ "I think I realized at some point that it wasn't you in there, but I had this sinking feeling that if I ever got out of there, I'd never see you again."

Peter nodded, understanding. "You were apologizing to me when you painted this?" Neal nodded slowly. "I don't hold this against you. I'd never do that to you." He rubbed Neal's back. "I've seen you at your best and at your worst, and I loved you through all of it. This is no different."

"How do you do it?" Peter was about to ask him what he meant, but Neal answered for him. "I feel shitty about myself and my life and you just…say _everything_ right. Like, do you have a script or something running in your brain that gives you all the right things to say to make me feel better?"

Peter chuckled, squeezing Neal gently. "I just tell you the honest truth," he whispered. He stared at the painting and could see how much Neal had recovered since then, physically and emotionally. Shortly after everything happened, Neal couldn't even touch Peter. Now, he was able to stand here for several minutes, holding Neal. He was comfortable enough to let his guard down is how Peter rationalized it—and he knew that was definitely true.


	35. Chapter 35

Peter walked into the apartment after dropping all of his parents' luggage into the guestroom. He'd gone to pick them up at the airport half an hour ago and drove them home. It made him laugh. He and Neal had driven up to their house in terrible weather conditions, but his parents weren't willing to drive back in moderately bad weather. Nonetheless, he'd still promised to be there when they got to New York. The last thing he wanted to do was have his parents take a cab. They'd be staying with him and Neal for a week and a half, which excited Nicky. He'd been waiting impatiently since Neal told him his grandparents would be coming in.

Nicky was playing monopoly with Neal to keep him busy. Peter suggested that Nicky do something to distract Neal while he was at the airport. His parents trailed behind him, grinning when they saw Nicky and Neal. The little boy looked up from the game and his eyes lit up. "Grandma! Grandpa!" He jumped to his feet and darted across the room to hug them both. Neal rose from the floor, dusting his pants off.

"Nicky!" Hannah said excitedly, hugging the boy. While Jon ruffled Nicky's dark, curly hair, Hannah moved past them to stand with Neal. He had a guarded look on his face, but she'd been the one talking to him over email for the past few months. She repeatedly told him he could make it through this and said she'd be willing to do whatever it took to help him. "Hi, sweetheart," she said, extending her arms to embrace the young man.

Neal relaxed into her arms. "Hello, Hannah," he breathed. She held him longer than he'd expected her to, but realized she was actually treating him like her son, cradling the back of his head to reassure him that he was loved by her. When she finally released him and took a step back, she reached up to stroke his face. Jon stepped closer to Neal and Neal held his hand out towards the man he considered a father. Jon didn't accept the handshake, instead pulling Neal into a bear hug. He laughed and ended up stroking his hair nervously when they parted. "It's so good to see you both again." He glanced up at Peter for a moment before returning his gaze to Jon and Hannah. "I can't even begin to tell you how thankful I am for all that you've done for me," he added quietly.

Jon shook his head, clapping his hand on Neal's shoulder. "I already see you as my son—not just my son-in-law. You're Peter's family, so you're my family by extension."

Neal bowed his head, wringing his hands. Peter rested a hand on the small of Neal's back, recognizing the anxious movements. "I honestly appreciate you both. Everything—even just the emails—means more to me than I can ever tell you." He gave them a sheepish smile, feeling childish all of a sudden. "You're already my parents." Peter saw his parents smile lovingly at his partner and it warmed his heart. Neal bit his lip for a moment. "Parent-in-laws," he amended, feeling like he'd overstepped boundaries.

They laughed gently, not to harass or make fun of him. "Oh, my dear," Hannah began, "you are _more_ than welcome to call us your parents." She held Jon's arm, smiling up at her husband. This was nice. Neal hadn't had the chance to experience such a wonderful _family_ gathering. Christmas hadn't been all bad, but it hadn't been great either. He was hoping things would be better this time around.

Peter ushered his parents towards the couch while Neal and Nicky finished their game of monopoly. Once Nicky won, as a result of Neal's planned defeat, Michael came home. Mike never met Peter's parents, so he stood in the doorway awkwardly, resorting to looking between Neal and Peter for answers. "Uh, Mike, this is Hannah and Jon," Neal said, gesturing towards Peter's parents. Neal decided to be bold for a moment. "Mom, dad, this is my little brother, Mike."

Peter's parents greeted him and Michael went to sit beside them, biting his lip nervously, which Neal figured was definitely something that ran in the family. "So, sweetheart, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?"

Neal chuckled quietly. "Well, I've invited a few friends to join us. Thus far, I'm going to be cooking for ten—assuming Cara and her husband aren't coming as well?"

Hannah shook her head. "She's spending Thanksgiving with the hubby's family this year. We'll brag about your cooking," she said with a wink. He smiled, feeling better than he had in months. And he actually believed himself when he thought that. He shared a brief look with Peter. Peter was silently asking him how he was doing and Neal responded with a smile to let Peter know he was fine. He crossed the sitting area to sit on Peter's lap in one of the chairs. Peter's arms wound around him without hesitation, holding him close.

They all talked a bit about Cara and her newborns. Hannah was happy to show off her new grandchildren and Nicky was excited to see babies. When Nicky went off on an excited tangent about wishing he could have a little brother or sister, guilt twisted in Neal's stomach. He'd never really taken Nicky's feelings about that into consideration before. He leaned against Peter, who quietly promised Neal that they'd give Nicky a little sibling in the future. Peter was the only reason he'd gotten interested in adoption. Before Nicky, he'd never wanted to have a family of his own. When his son was thrust upon him, that all changed for him, but he'd never intended on adding to his family, figuring Nicky, Moz, and June were enough. Peter came along and changed everything for him, made him reconsider his thoughts. When they were allowed to marry, Peter already asked how Neal felt about him adopting Nicky as his child, which Neal strongly agreed to. Adopting another child would come after they were legally considered a married couple.

Neal smiled to himself, happier than he had been in months. Despite everything that happened to him, he was proud of himself for going on with his life—with his family.

•◊•

Thanksgiving morning, Neal was up early. He made coffee while he was prepping everything that needed to be started early on in the day. He'd started thawing the turkey a few days ago, so all he had to do now was heat it up. It would take about three hours, if he'd estimated correctly. That gave him a few hours to run out to the store and finish getting what he needed for dinner. He got dressed, pulling his jeans and one of Peter's sweaters on. He grabbed the car keys and his wallet from the nightstand and stood by the bed for a few moments. He smiled at Peter, thankful to have Peter's immense love. He leaned over his lover and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek before heading out quietly.

When he'd gotten down to the second floor, he was met by Jon—or rather, startled. "Good morning, Neal."

"Good morning, dad," Neal said quietly.

Jon looked Neal over for a minute, which was beginning to make Neal feel uncomfortable. Yes, this was Peter's father and Jon loved him dearly, but Jon was still…older—much older. "Where are you off to so early this morning?"

Neal bowed his head for a moment. "I, uh… Last minute shopping for food."

The older man chuckled. "Want some company?"

"That'd be great," Neal breathed. It wasn't that he was afraid to go out alone. He just felt safer with at least one other person, which was usually Peter. He waited for Jon to get into warmer clothes so they could head out. Once they were in the _Taurus,_ Neal said, "I…truly appreciate the way you've treated me, Jon." The older man smiled warmly at him. "I've never had a proper father figure in my life, so having you is just… Having you is a blessing."

Jon smiled enough to crinkle the skin around his eyes. "You're a terrific man, Neal. My son loves you a great deal and I see no reason to dislike you—nor could I invent one, for that matter." He reached over to take Neal's hand. "I didn't tell Peter this, but when he called after you'd gotten stabilized in the hospital, I cried a river for you." He squeezed Neal's hand. "You don't deserve any of the terrible things that have happened to you. You've raised your son to be a young gentleman and you make my boy happy. I'm not sure if Peter's told you, but I used to be in the NYPD."

Neal was a bit surprised to hear that. "Really?"

"You bet. So, son, I want you to know I'm more than ready to pull the trigger on anyone who threatens you in my presence." Neal blushed a bit. He didn't know how to respond to this level of kindness from a parental figure. He'd had Ellen, of course, but she was only around so often herself. "I can't think of any unique ways to tell you how great I think you are, so I'll just settle with an 'I love you, kid.'"

Neal ducked his head, grinning. "Love you, too, dad."

Jon squeezed his hand again before letting go to allow Neal to start up the car and drive. They talked about a few things throughout the drive, such as Peter's childhood and Nicky's firsts as a baby. It was an enjoyable topic for Neal because they talked about two of the most important people in his life. By the time they'd gotten to Wal-Mart, he was laughing at Jon's story about Peter streaking around the house for a week.

"He was a funny kid. A strange one, too. Cara was a lot more…well-mannered, I guess."

"Peter streaks at home when Nicky spends the night at his friend's house," Neal commented, "so he hasn't changed at all." He grabbed a cart inside and started pushing it, Jon walking alongside him. Jon laughed when Neal confided in Jon that Peter streaked mainly when he was really tired, like first thing in the morning, and told him how Nicky almost caught Peter naked once. It was amusing for them both.

He got what he needed to make stuffing and mashed potatoes and was heading over to get the dinner rolls and butter when someone rounded the corner suddenly and rammed right into his cart. "Sorry!" she said, pulling back.

Neal froze and Jon noticed it, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

The woman came out of the aisle and stared at Neal. "Neal?" She glanced at Jon and looked confused. She assumed that things with Peter might not have worked out, so he found a daddy figure to be his next partner, but she felt like it was just bitter thinking on her part considering Neal hadn't asked her over for Thanksgiving with him and her grandson. "Who's your new guy?"

Jon was confused, especially when Neal's eyes flashed with anger. "This isn't a _new guy._ This is Peter's dad—my dad."

She looked hurt by that. "You have a father, Neal. He just—"

"—couldn't be allowed into my life. I know. You've told me that a lot since Ellen told me he wasn't _dead._" She looked down at her feet and Jon squeezed Neal's shoulder gently. He figured out who she was by the comments Neal made, but Neal clarified anyway. "This is my mother, Maryann."

Jon knew not to be pleased with this woman, but he'd be pleasant. He held his hand out towards Maryann. "Jon Burke," he said by way of introduction. "It's nice to meet you." Neal swore he heard an undercurrent of sarcasm in that, but he wasn't too sure.

"What are your plans for Thanksgiving?"

Neal grimaced. "My wife and I came down to spend it with the boys," Jon answered.

Maryann was looking at Neal now. "Do you mind if I join you, sweetie?"

Jon was quick to respond for Neal, aware of what's been going on between Maryann and Neal thanks to Peter. "He's got his hands pretty full with making dinner for ten." Neal took some small amount of pride in seeing his mother frown like that. He told her she wasn't welcome in his life, but he let her see Nicky whenever Nicky asked about her, which was less and less nowadays. Then again, Nicky _did_ come home with a very infuriated Peter after taking Nicky to see her. Peter angrily told Neal that Maryann was insulting Neal in front of Nicky. His son wanted to avoid her for a little while because he really didn't like when his father was insulted.

"Last I heard, you thought I was being a jackass," Neal said quietly. Her eyes widened. "Yeah, that's why Nicky hasn't asked to see you in a couple months. He might be your grandson, but he's _my_ son before that and he respects me. Hearing you say things like that upset him—and in turn, that upsets me."

She stammered, "I didn't mean that, sweetheart. You know I love you dearly—and I love Nicky, too. I wasn't intentionally trying to hurt you."

"Oh, I wasn't hurt," Neal said, chuckling, giving her a forced smile. "I don't really give a damn anymore. You bothered my son. That's the _only_ thing that bothered me." He shook his head, sighing. "Nicky told me he didn't want to go back to you for a while, so I wasn't going to force him to see you."

She frowned. "You didn't want him seeing me in the first place."

Neal's eyes flashed and Jon recognized the anger. "_Exactly,_" he hissed.

There was a long, awkward silence shortly thereafter and Neal started to push the cart again to get away from her, but she reached out for his arm, tugging on it as he passed her. He let go of the cart and whirled around to glare at her. "Can I spend Thanksgiving with you? Please? I want to see you and my grandbaby. I'd like to make up for—"

"I'll ask Peter and Nicky first," Neal interjected. "You know how I feel about it. Their opinions matter to me, so I'm not making a decision until I talk to my family first."

Pain flashed across her face. "I'm your mom," she said sadly.

Neal shook his head. "We had this discussion already," Neal bit out. "My _real_ mom is coming to dinner tonight to meet _my_ family." Jon rested a hand on Neal's shoulder again, stroking it with his thumb. Neal relaxed considerably and exhaled audibly. "If Peter and Nicky are fine with you being there, I'll call you. You know that if you don't hear from me, you weren't invited." She tried to reach for him again, but he shrugged her off. "Happy Thanksgiving," he said, walking off with Jon.

•◊•

"Moz?" Peter said as he opened the door and the little man darted into the apartment. "Neal's out with my dad. He texted me a little bit ago to tell me he's almost done. Everything okay?"

Mozzie shook his head, looking shaken up and furious now that Peter had the chance to actually look at him. "There was a long radio silence between me and Alex after we sprung Neal from that warehouse. Remember how I told you she knew who provided the means for Neal's kidnapping?" Peter nodded, cocking an eyebrow. "Peter, it was Fowler." Peter's jaw dropped and he felt his face heating up. "She recorded a phone call between…him and Craig. They discussed it in great detail and I think Fowler might have…" Mozzie trailed off, groaning. "I think Fowler has _proof_ of Neal's…rape."

"What?" Peter shouted in disbelief. "What kind of animal—" Nicky came out of his room just then, stopping beside Peter, reaching out to hug him. "Hey, kiddo." Nicky mumbled a 'good morning, poppa' before heading over to the couch to lay down on it. Peter watched him for a moment before turning back to Mozzie. "What kind of animal asks for help to ruin somebody's life? Alex said he actually admitted that he wanted this to happen?" Mozzie nodded. "This is unbelievable. I know the bastard is his ex, but _why_ would he want this?"

Peter's hands were balled into fists and trembling with his fury. He already disliked Fowler for taunting Neal at every turn. Now he just _hated_ the man. "Neal doesn't know and I don't know if we should tell him," Mozzie whispered. "He's got enough anxiety around all of us as it is. He doesn't need to take that and intensify it in the workplace if Fowler plans on taking you guys out on cases."

"I'm going over Fowler's head with this. He is _not_ getting away with this. Neal put Adler behind bars, Craig was put there without question, and we'll take Fowler down as well." He was well beyond the point of pissed off with Fowler. He's had to help Neal through all of his PTSD and nightmares. With Neal writhing in bed in terror during the night, showering himself until his skin was raw, and sobbing in the darkness when he was alone with Peter, Fowler wouldn't make it out of this. He would personally see to it that Fowler's life was affected just like Neal's. He wouldn't go about it the same way Fowler did, but he wasn't going to be pleasant either. "Don't tell him," Peter breathed. "I'm going to wait for a moment when we're alone and I know he can handle the news, then I'll tell him."

Mozzie nodded. "I knew coming to you was my best option," Mozzie said gratefully.

Peter was touched by that. Mozzie wasn't one to trust federal agents—though he's been Neal's friend for a long time and Neal had been trying to get into this for quite some time. He knew that Mozzie appreciated him because he took care of Neal, made Neal happy, and made Neal feel loved and needed. "I love him enough to burn the world down if it hurt him."

Not even a minute later, the apartment door opened and Neal came in with Jon, both of them carrying groceries. Mozzie backed off while Peter went to help them bring everything in. Mozzie liked that Neal looked moderately, yet genuinely, happy and he was saddened by the thought of what the news of Fowler's part in his torture would do to him.

"Hey," Neal said breathlessly, circling an arm around Peter's waist. Peter kissed his temple.

"Welcome home, hon," Peter said softly. He helped Neal put groceries away, at least one of his hands glued onto Neal's body every second. Once everything was where Neal wanted it to be, he took Peter's hand and dragged him over to the couch, plopping down onto it beside a sleeping Nicky. Jon slowly made his way towards the sitting area, seating himself in one of the chairs. Before Neal really had a chance to get comfortable, Peter pulled him into his lap, kissing his neck, mumbling, "I missed you."

Neal smiled. "I missed you, too." He turned in Peter's arms, just enough to kiss him. It was one of their long, sweet kisses that neither of them wanted to end, but the abrupt vibration and ringing of Neal's phone interrupted their moment. Peter's face flushed when Neal chuckled, having realized that the vibrations of Neal's phone turned Peter on. "One sec, babe," he said, pecking Peter's lips before heading out into the hallway to answer the call.

As soon as the door closed, Peter looked at his father. "What's wrong, son?"

"How's he been so far?"

Jon understood Peter's need to be aware of practically every feeling and thought Neal had. It made him proud of his son because Peter had a heart big enough to love everyone, but reserved all of that love for _one_ man—the man he wanted to be with. Jon appreciated that Peter was devoted to Neal and that Peter respected his partner and remained faithful. "We had a, uh, run-in with Maryann." Peter's lips parted slightly. "I know it probably isn't my place to say anything, but she wanted to come over to Thanksgiving."

"What did he—?"

"He told her he'd ask you and Nicky."

Peter nodded, glancing at the door. "How did he act?"

Jon sighed. "Well, just a little irritated, I'd say."

"No panic attacks?" Jon shook his head. "No sudden drawbacks from a conversation?"

His father smiled fondly at Peter. "Oh, my boy…" he muttered, shaking his head. "He was fine. I made sure he was under control and able to walk away without panicking." He reached over to pat Peter's knee gently. "Have I ever told you that you're a wonderful man, Peter?" His son blushed and Jon chuckled. "You made a fine husband for El—even if it wasn't true love. I know you'll make a damn good husband for Neal and a wonderful father for Nicky."

Peter smiled, appreciating the praise from his father. "Dad, Neal and I have only been together for a little over a year. Do you think it would be…too desperate on my part if I proposed to him soon? I know we can't get married, but I want him to know I'm committed to him."

He hadn't expected his father's face to light up at the question. "Peter, I know he won't think you're acting desperate if you do. Do you have a ring?" Peter nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. "Well, show me the damn thing before Neal comes back," he teased. Peter rolled his eyes and got up, heading over to the bed. Jon followed him over as Peter opened a drawer in the nightstand and shifted some things around before pulling a small, black box out. He nervously opened the box, revealing a ring with a thin, silver band and a cradle curved beneath it to hold two gemstones—aquamarine and peridot, their birthstones. "Oh, Peter, he'll love it," Jon said, his breath taken away by the simple beauty of the ring.

"I hope so. I feel like this ring is more…him than any ring with a gold band and huge rock could ever be." He smiled thoughtfully. "It's beautiful at a first glance and even more so at the second, third, and many more times after that—just like Neal."

Jon chuckled, seeing so much of himself in Peter. "He's a lucky man," Jon said quietly, "to have you love him unconditionally and be willing to stay. I always knew you were good, Peter."

Peter closed the box and put it back, smiling. "He's lucky to have me—I'm extremely lucky to have him. I love him to the point where I don't even know how to tell him how I feel without it sounding like an understatement."

Neal came back in a moment later, finding Jon and Peter staring at him. He saw pride in Jon's eyes and all the affection in the world in Peter's. "Did I miss something?"

Peter chuckled, moving towards him. Once he was close enough, he pulled Neal into a tight hug. "I love you," he whispered in Neal's ear.

"I love you, too." When Peter pulled away to stroke Neal's cheek, Neal raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Never been better." He pecked Neal's lips and took his left hand. "Come sit down and relax for a little bit, please. You've done enough running around for now."

Neal smiled, letting Peter drag him over to the couch. "Teddy bear time?" he teased.

Peter grinned, not even embarrassed by the fact that his dad was right there. "Always, hon—always your teddy bear."


	36. Chapter 36

Neal was screaming at the top of his lungs, sounding as though he was being strangled or killed. Either way, it wasn't pleasant. Peter ran down hallway after hallway, trying to find him to no avail. He didn't understand. The screams were nearby, but he couldn't find the room holding Neal. "Peter!" he screamed in agony, pleading for his lover to help him. Peter never heard him sound quite like that before and it made his heart clench.

He started banging on doors, pushing them open if they weren't locked. He just couldn't find the damn room and it was starting to frustrate him. How couldn't he find it? Why was this hallway filled with so many doorways if they all led to _nothing?_ Neal was sobbing and then he heard a sharp slap, which made Neal whimper. "Shut up," a man hissed. "Fucking whore. You should've learned by now that I don't want you to speak."

_Craig._ It was Craig and he had Neal. He was torturing Neal. "Please…" he begged, breathing raggedly. "Please, stop..."

He could hear what Craig was doing to Neal and heard Neal's cries of pain and discomfort. "You said you'd do anything for your man, sweetheart. Should I go get him instead?"

Neal choked out another sob. "No."

"Then shut the fuck up." He heard another slap, followed by a hiss from Neal. A few moments later, it sounded like Neal was being suffocated and Craig was laughing at him. Craig was taking pleasure in hearing Neal struggle, in seeing his will break. Peter was left wondering where Neal could be and why he just couldn't find him. "Oh, Vince was so damn lucky when he got you before. This will give me something to tell him about the next time I visit him."

The younger man grunted in pain and Peter could imagine the look on his face, the tears falling onto the mattress beneath him. "Peter… H-He'll… He'll save me…"

Craig laughed louder and Neal started choking again, telling him that his hopes would only disappoint him. Peter's heart leapt into his throat and he started racing down the hallway again. "Neal, I'm coming!" he shouted, hoping he could get some kind of response. He was only able to hear the sounds of Craig's sexual assault on Neal as well as how Craig was verbally abusing him. He didn't seem to hear Peter, which was troubling. Had he given up? "Hon, I'm coming!"

By the time he'd reached the very end of the hallway, he heard Craig's sigh of relief. He couldn't hear Neal anymore though. "Pity," Craig muttered. A thud followed that single word and then the door suddenly opened.

Craig was nowhere to be seen, but Neal was lying in the corner of the room on a mattress, motionless. Peter didn't pause to wonder where Craig had gone. He darted across the room and fell to his knees beside Neal's body. His shoulders and chest weren't moving. Peter put his hand in front of Neal's face, waiting for him to breathe and receiving no indication of it. "No," Peter pleaded. "Please, no… Neal, honey, wake up." He tried to gently shake Neal, hoping that Neal was just exhausted, but something inside of him told him he was too late this time. He laid Neal on his back and Peter's heart stopped when he saw the mess of blood all over Neal's face. "Neal," he whispered, reaching out to stroke Neal's blood-soaked hair. "Hon, wake up. I'm begging you," he pleaded. He slid his hand down to Neal's chest, resting it above his heart. There was no heartbeat. "_Neal!_"

"Peter?" Peter's eyes snapped open and he gasped, pushing himself up and nearly head butting Neal in the process. "Whoa," he said quietly, hands in front of him. "You okay?" Peter was staring at him like he'd grown an extra limb and it was making him uncomfortable. He looked himself over and didn't find anything particularly revolting, unless Peter was finally starting to see him as an item rather than a person, which is what he was always expecting. He knew Peter wouldn't think that, but he felt like he'd lose Peter because Peter is the _one_ good thing he's had in his life since Nicky. He wiped the sweat on Peter's face and neck off with his hand, his eyes locked onto Peter's. "Babe, you yelled for me. Are you all right?"

The older man looked around the room, realizing he was in their apartment. He could hear his parents, El and Di, Nicky, and Mike downstairs. When his eyes were locked onto Neal again, he leaned forward to kiss Neal quickly, pulling back a moment later to look the young man over. "You aren't…hurt?" he asked quietly.

Neal shook his head, his brows furrowing. "No. I'm just fine. I was getting stuff for dinner out in the kitchen while you were sleeping." Peter's hand rested on the spot between Neal's neck and shoulder. The more Neal looked at him, the more he wondered why Peter looked like he'd just run a marathon with some kind of monster chasing after him. "Peter, what's going on?"

"Bad dream," Peter whispered, shaking his head. He swung his legs over the side of the couch and Neal's eyes followed him, concerned. "It was about you," he answered.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked gently.

Peter shook his head. "It's not something I want you to worry about, hon. As long as you're okay, that's all that matters." Neal nodded, scooting to maneuver himself in between Peter's bent legs. He rested his arms on Peter's thighs and kissed Peter's jaw, closing his eyes. Peter smiled weakly, his frantic heart relaxing now that he could see his Neal—alive. He slid his hands up to caress Neal's cheeks while they kissed. He could smell the sweet scent of his lover's soap and aftershave. This close, it was beginning to arouse him, which he found very unwarranted and impolite considering he'd just dreamt about something very disturbing regarding his lover. When they parted for breath, Neal leaned forward, leaning into Peter's chest. "You know how much I love you, right?" Peter whispered.

Neal laughed lightly. "As much as I love you."

Peter nodded, gently prying Neal off of him to straighten the younger man so he could look at him. He stared into Neal's beautiful, blue eyes and found affection and a deep pain that nearly went unnoticed by Peter. "I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where," he said quietly. "I love you simply, without problems or pride." He lifted his hands to stroke Neal's cheeks with his thumbs, making damn sure that Neal wasn't looking away from him for even a split second. "I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand…" He paused for a moment, watching Neal's lips twitch as they curved into a smile, his eyes flashing with silent appreciation. "So intimate that when I fall asleep, your eyes close."

He kissed Peter and whispered, "Pablo Neruda," against his lips. He breathed quietly, resting his forehead against Peter's. "And in the end, the love you take is _equal_ to the love you make."

"Paul McCartney," Peter mumbled after a moment. "It's pretty enlightening, you know, to finally understand your little quote game with Moz and be able to use it to tell you I love you in ways I can't possibly express in my own words."

Neal smiled softly, taking Peter's hands in his own. "No quote will ever be able to express that kind of love you feel unless it's a Peter Burke original."

Peter chuckled. "Well, Peter Burke needs to learn how to speak to impress his boyfriend, doesn't he?"

The younger man rolled his eyes as he let go of Peter's hands and used Peter's knees to push himself up from the floor. "Nah," he said as he was brushing off his own knees. "I find that I like hearing a simple 'I love you, Neal' over any eloquent quote you could find online."

Peter rose from the couch, resting his hands on Neal's hips. "Well, since that's the case," he whispered, pecking Neal's lips gently, "then: I love you, Neal."

Neal chuckled, wrapping his arms around Peter's neck. "I love you, Peter."

"Awe, how adorable!" Both men jumped when they saw Elizabeth in the doorway to the apartment. "Oh, don't stop on my behalf. Watching you two has been extremely sweet and enlightening."

Peter glared noncommittally at her. "Voyeur," he muttered.

"Please, feel free to go about your business as though I'm not here. In other words, I wouldn't mind if you two had sex right there on the couch," she teased. Neal blushed and Peter sighed. "Seriously though. You boys are too damn cute for your own good."

"Glad you approve," Peter said wryly. "Don't you have a girlfriend to make out with instead of harassing me and my boyfriend?"

She stared at him in with mock hurt on her face. "Oh, Peter, I didn't think you'd mind me watching you two fuck each other with your eyes."

"It's a wonderful talent of his," Neal said quietly, ducking his head when Peter looked at him, stunned.

"Oh, don't you start, too," Peter grumbled, tugging Neal closer to him. Neal smiled, hugging Peter. El giggled. "So what did you come up for, El?"

She rolled her eyes. "I can't come up to watch you two?" Peter did glare at her this time. "Fine, fine. Hannah wanted me to ask Neal when he'd be starting preparations for dinner because she wants to help."

Peter looked down at Neal, his heart skipping a beat when he saw unmistakable happiness in Neal's expression. "Tell her I'll get started in a few minutes, whenever she wants to come back up." She went downstairs to relay the message to Peter's mother and allowed the two men in the apartment to pass along more whispers of endearment to one another. Once Hannah came upstairs, the whole crowd seemed to follow. Peter gave Neal another kiss before Neal went back to the kitchen to work on dinner with his mother.

Peter went out onto the balcony to sit with Elizabeth and Mozzie a short while later. Almost everyone was in the apartment, either helping Neal with dinner or occupying Nicky. He'd offered to help Neal, but his mom was adamant in saying she would do the honors, so Peter took El and Moz out. The three of them discussed Neal and Fowler for a little while. "Do you have any idea how to…talk to him about this?" El asked, genuinely concerned. She was afraid for Neal, wishing she could help him in some way.

He shook his head. "I don't. I can't predict how he'll react when I tell him and I don't know how to say it politely—I'm very good at being blunt, but sometimes blunt isn't what he needs." He sighed, resting his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers in front of his bowed head. "Every time I think about this, I wonder why Fowler did this to him. I know he thinks Neal used him, but Neal didn't. I can't imagine myself looking for a rapist to…to fucking _destroy_ him in order to get revenge if he'd used me for any reason at all." He shuddered, his thoughts flashing back to when he'd found Neal in the warehouse after everything Craig did to him.

"You aren't that kind of man," Elizabeth said gently. "You're a sweetheart. Even if he did something terrible, you'd still love him." Peter nodded slowly, lifting his head to look at Elizabeth. "I also know Neal isn't a user. He's been used, so he knows how that feels. If I know him as well as I think I do, he wouldn't want anyone else to feel the way he did."

Again, Peter nodded. "He's told me that on numerous occasions. He never wants anyone else to know how it feels to be…hurt the way he was. It's why he was falling to pieces when Nicky was kidnapped. He'd been tormented physically and emotionally by the man for a few years and then his past followed him for twenty years, nearly drowning him." Peter shook his head, closing his eyes. "He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to feel like he's ruined. It's so hard to make love to him when he's remembering how it felt to have another man destroy his insides." Elizabeth's eyes were watering and Mozzie was blinking rapidly, avoiding eye contact with either of them. "I have to tell him he's perfect to me and that I'll always love him unconditionally every day. It hurts to watch him suffer in silence when he doesn't want to 'bother' me." He sighed heavily. "He doesn't understand that I _want_ to be with him sometimes. He thinks I feel like I'm obligated to be with him because I pity him."

"He's said that?" El asked, horrified.

"Yes. Too many times for my liking." He opened his eyes and looked at his ex-wife. "I wish he could have a perfectly normal life to live—happiness that wasn't tainted when he was young. He'll never know how it feels to be absolutely normal because he'll never believe me when I tell him he's not some abhorrent creature."

Mozzie swallowed a lump in his throat, his voice sounding hoarse when he spoke. "I agree with you, Suit. I wish things were different for him. He's never wanted to hurt anyone, so he doesn't deserve to _be_ hurt." Peter looked away from El to peer into the apartment, watching Neal interact with his parents, watching Neal smile easily and converse with them. "He believes in God and assumes there's a reason he was meant to be hurt this way," Mozzie muttered, sounding irritated. "I, however, don't share his views and I stand by my firm belief that he never did anything to deserve this." Mozzie crossed his arms over his chest. "That's started a fight or two in recent months."

Peter nodded, remembering Neal telling him in tears that he and Mozzie argued, that he was afraid he'd lose Mozzie. "We need to protect him," he said with an air of finality. "I don't care how we do it. He can't be allowed to hurt like this anymore. Once was hard enough for him to live with. Twice could have put him six feet under." He shuddered as he considered his next words. "Three times could be his end."

The short man slammed his hand down on the table and quietly growled, "I will give my life to keep this from happening to him again."

Peter glanced into the apartment again, finding Neal's concerned eyes on the three of them. He shook his head and silently tried to tell Neal everything was fine. Neal reluctantly nodded, turning back to working on dinner. "I love him and I'm proud of him, but I'm not going to lie and say I'm not afraid that I'll wake up one day to find him hanging from the bar above the bathtub." El's breath hitched and Mozzie understood how Peter felt. "I've thought about it a lot. I've walked through the apartment in the middle of the night when I haven't been able to sleep and I find numerous ways he could end his life, numerous ways I could find him too late."

"He won't do that to you," Elizabeth whispered, rubbing her eyes. "We all know he's considered killing himself and he nearly did a few months ago, but he's getting better, honey." Peter nodded slowly, agreeing with her. "He has all of us here for him and I desperately hope and pray that that's enough for him to be willing to live through this."

"I've often wondered what would've happened to him if we hadn't gotten together. If Adler came back and tried to destroy him, would he have come to me for help in rescuing Nicky or would that bastard have killed Nicky and taken Neal?" Mozzie frowned. "I feel like he might be living his life only knowing how it feels to be raped day in and day out if he hadn't let me into his life."

Mozzie's façade crumbled then and he had to rub his own eyes. "Why do you think I thank you for being here for him, Suit?" he muttered. Peter's lips parted when he looked at Neal's best friend. "He wouldn't have asked me to help him. He would have allowed Adler to take him, even if Nicky had been killed. He'd feel like his life wasn't worth living and he'd eventually escape the constant abuse by doing something to get himself killed—either by suicidal means or by pissing Adler off to the point where he didn't want Neal anymore."

Elizabeth took both men's hands and squeezed them, struggling to keep herself from crying. "We all have to make him feel loved, boys. If we need to tell him we love him every day to keep him alive, then so be it. He deserves to know how it feels to be loved—either intimately by you, Peter, or in a familial way by the rest of us. He deserves all of that and more."

Peter gestured for them to hush without Neal seeing as the younger man came out onto the balcony. "Dinner's ready," he said quietly, staring at Peter. Peter knew he had the feeling they were talking about him. They all rose from the table. Mozzie went inside first, giving Neal a quick smile. Elizabeth kissed his cheek. Peter, however, stood in front of him. He held Neal's hips and stared down at Neal's face lovingly. "What's wrong now? Is it something I did?"

"Nothing's wrong, hon," Peter said reassuringly. "We were…discussing things we're thankful for," he said, covering up quite well in his opinion. Neal nodded slowly. "I'm thankful for you," he whispered, kissing Neal sweetly for several, long moments. When they parted, his lips were close enough for him to breathe on Neal. "Thankful for every day I have with you, Neal," he added.

Neal pecked Peter's lips. "I can't tell you how thankful I am to wake up every morning and go to bed every night beside you."

Peter rubbed Neal's hips slowly. "That'll never change," he said sincerely. He paused, listening to Neal's breathing. "I don't think I could live if I didn't wake up to your sexy snores," he teased. Neal smacked his chest and backed up to roll his eyes. Peter chuckled when Neal took his hand and led him back into the apartment. "We still have people showing up?" he asked, glancing at three empty spots.

Neal nodded. "Yes. Ellen will be here kind of late. The Marshals aren't letting her out of their sight a little longer. My…mother will arrive shortly with whatever asshole she's decided to ruin her life with this time." Peter sat at the head of the table, holding Neal's left hand as Neal took his seat off to the right. Nicky sat across from him and beside Elizabeth.

"We'll make it through dinner. She's sitting away from you. Dad will kick her out if she starts anything," Peter promised quietly. He lifted Neal's hand, kissing his knuckles. "Do you want to start off dinner with a prayer?" He was a lapsed Catholic, but Neal wasn't. He wasn't a religious fanatic either, but he still believed.

Neal cleared his throat, asking everyone to join hands with the people beside them. He held Peter and Hannah's hands as he bowed his head and began saying grace. He started out by thanking God for the wonderful food in which they were given, continued by thanking God for creating each and every person in this room with him today, and ended with thanking God for the lives they were allowed to live. Once he was finished, they all started dishing out their own dinner. Neal waited patiently for Peter to get himself food first, feeling like it was right to wait for Peter. He'd get Nicky's food afterwards, then his own. He watched the food circulate around the table and was slightly surprised to see Peter getting Nicky's food.

He remembered how awkward Peter had been during their first Thanksgiving. It'd just been the three of them and Mozzie. "Thank you," Neal whispered once Nicky was served. Peter gave him a sweet smile and surprised Neal further by grabbing his plate and getting food for _him._ He asked Neal if he wanted more and got everything Neal wanted to eat before setting the plate down in front of him. He couldn't stop smiling at his partner, even as he began to eat. Peter struggled to eat left-handedly so he could hold Neal's hand while they ate.

After Neal finished his mashed potatoes, someone knocked on the door. He excused himself and pushed his chair back, heading over to the door. When he opened the door, he couldn't hide his grimace. "Hi, sweetie." He nodded and motioned for her to come in. A man about Neal's height came in with her, his hair graying and his expression making him seem very cautious for no apparent reason. "This is…James," she said quietly, introducing them to each other. "James, this is Neal."

James smiled at Neal and it made his stomach churn. He had a sudden feeling, telling him something was really off. Almost as if by some sort of mind-link, Peter was at his side, resting a hand on the small of Neal's back. "Nice to meet you," he said quietly. He looked up at Peter. "This is my boyfriend, Peter. Peter, this is James. He's my mother's…" He trailed off, unable to explain the relationship between the two because he honestly had no idea what they were to each other.

"James Bennett," he said, holding out a hand towards Peter. Peter instantly recognized the name and went into defensive mode. "I'm Neal's father."

Neal's eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise. He was seemingly frozen with Peter's arm sliding around his waist to pull him closer, almost as if he were planning on drawing Neal into himself to protect the younger man. James lowered his outstretched hand, looking concernedly at his son. In an instant, Jon was on Neal's other side. He, being part of the NYPD at one point in his life, knew the police department in DC very well. He also recognized James Bennett and was absolutely aware of what James had been arrested for. He knew Neal was also a runaway and that his surname at birth was Bennett, but he hadn't thought there was a connection between the two of them. Neal backed off, letting Peter stay as close as Peter wanted. "James Bennett," Jon said. "You're a fugitive."

Neal turned to Peter and Peter gave him his absolute attention, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what was going through Neal's mind at that moment. "I need to call Ellen," he said, his voice barely a whisper. Peter didn't understand _that,_ but nodded. Neal pulled his phone out of his pocket and darted towards the hallway leading to the bathroom.

James' eyes followed his son until he was out of sight, then he focused on Jon. "You know me, but I don't know you."

"Officer Jonathan Burke," he answered. "Former NYPD. Your case file came up here and we were on alert." He remembered that that was a very, very long time ago. "Neal was, what, three when you abandoned him because you murdered your superior officer?"

"Dad," Peter warned.

James nodded. "Yes. He was. I couldn't find him and Maryann because they were buried in WitSec so deeply that I found no trace of them." He sighed, meeting Jon's eyes. "I didn't _want_ to abandon him. I tried to find him for a long time. I looked for him in DC. As I said, no trace of him."

Jon wasn't happy with that. "You cost him thirty years of his life without a proper father figure, and for what?"

Another knock hit the door, softer than it had been when James and Maryann arrived. Peter looked cautiously between his father and James before heading over to the door. He barely opened it and whispered, "Ellen?" She looked confused, but nodded. Peter opened and closed the door quickly, slipping into the hallway with her. "Neal was trying to call you. I'm assuming that you didn't get it because you're here."

"Is he all right?"

"His father is here. I'm not sure why he's so—"

Ellen's eyes widened. "James is here?" Peter nodded silently, hoping Ellen would explain the situation to him. "He was my former partner in DC. I arrested him and I worked on the case to…clear his name, as he assumed."

"Is being around him going to complicate things?"

Ellen looked adamant when she deflected and said, "I'm going to protect my boy even if James is here." The two of them entered the apartment just as Neal was returning to the main room. He saw Ellen and his face went from moderate fear to absolute panic. James turned and his eyes locked onto Ellen. Peter watched Neal, waiting for the moment to arise where Neal would _run._ Something was going on and Peter was afraid for his lover. Neal hadn't moved until Ellen started taking steps towards him. He moved then and Ellen pulled him into an embrace. Peter saw how unguarded and painful Neal's expression was as he held onto the woman he'd deemed his mom. "It's okay, Neal. I'm here, sweetheart."

He shuddered against the older woman until James said, "Ellen." Neal's head snapped up and he looked so vulnerable, so uncertain. "It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has been," she said, sounding almost bitter and resentful. Ellen gave Maryann a full on glare. "You should have known better than to bring him here. I expected more from you, Maryann."

James stepped towards her and Neal. She backed up with him, holding him close. "I came to see my son," he said unprecedentedly. "I haven't gotten to know him. I've not seen him since he was three, Ellen. I want to—"

"Because of _you,_ Neal carries many scars. He's better off without you." Peter could tell that she cared about James, but she definitely made it clear that she didn't want him anywhere near Neal, which he now understood as a result of her statement. She was blaming him for the terrible things that happened to Neal. "If you wanted to be in his life, you would have been more conscientious about your actions. You would have taken his future into consideration. He hasn't had a father since that day—until Peter's father accepted him."

James turned to look at Jon. "He's as much my son as Peter is now." Peter crossed the room to stand closer to Neal, realizing that everyone at the table, including Nicky, was watching them. "Now, how about you take your leave and let us enjoy Thanksgiving as a family?"

"He's my son."

"Please leave," Neal said quietly. Peter reached over to take Neal's hand. Neal's grip on his hand tightened almost immediately. It was so sudden that it shocked Peter for a moment. James looked at Neal, his eyes watering. "I know you're a murderer," Neal whispered. "I don't want you here. Not right now. Not when my family is here for you to target."

Peter wasn't surprised that Neal's voice shook as he spoke. "Neal…"

"James, you can either leave on your own free will or I can forcibly remove you from the vicinity," Jon threatened. "It's your choice." He would go through with that threat, too. James seemed to get that just from the look in Jon's eyes.

Neal's father frowned, looking at his son. Ellen was as protective of Neal as the rest of the people in their circle of family were. They'd all defend Neal if it came down to that. Michael rose from his seat and Neal motioned for him to sit down. He didn't need Michael getting all fired up about this, too. "Can I get to know you someday, Neal?" Neal looked away from him and muttered 'maybe.' James figured it was better than a definite no, so he accepted that. He tried to step towards Neal, hoping that he could embrace his son once before having to leave him again, but Neal cringed and took a few steps back. James didn't understand what was wrong with Neal. He was beginning to blame himself for it though, but something deep down inside of himself told him that Neal had never really been his son. Not after thirty years of being kept apart anyway. This was his biological son, but he had no idea what kind of man Neal was. "Have a wonderful Thanksgiving," James said quietly, nodding at Neal. "I'll…see you soon, son."

Neal didn't respond—not even with a nod. He waited for James to leave the room and then his gaze fell upon his mother's pain stricken face. "Neal—"

"This is just an additional reason that you've lost me," Neal said, no emotion in his voice. "Please, leave. I want to have a nice holiday with the people I love." She opened her mouth to say something and Neal shook his head. "Just…go." Ellen rested a hand on Neal's shoulder, waiting for Maryann to leave.

"Neal…" Ellen whispered once Maryann was gone, trailing after James. He shook his head and walked back over to the table. Hannah was quick to give him comfort, intertwining their fingers.

Neal closed his eyes and sat in silence for a moment, feeling embarrassed and knowing all eyes were on him. He sighed and opened his eyes, looking at each person in the room. "Everything's fine," he said, trying to reassure himself more so than the rest of the room. "Let's all just…" Peter came to sit down beside him again after showing Ellen to her seat. Neal looked at Peter sadly.

Peter reached over to stroke Neal's knuckles. "We're your family," he said quietly, "so let's be family. Forget about them, okay, hon?" Neal nodded silently. "Let's have a good Thanksgiving." Everyone else gave their quiet sounds of agreement before returning to eating their dinner. Neal sat in silence, staring at his plate for a little while until Peter actually picked up Neal's fork and attempted to make him eat. Neal glared at him for a brief moment and then his eyes softened when he realized Peter was trying to bring him back to reality. He looked around the table, considering the relationship he had with each individual before his eyes returned to Peter's and he nodded. Peter smiled once Neal began to eat again. For the duration of the night, everything else was calm.


	37. Chapter 37

A few days after Thanksgiving, Peter woke up, the warmth he was expecting to be beside him having vanished. He panicked, frantically moving his hand across the mattress. He pushed himself up and turned on the light on the nightstand, looking around the room quickly. His eyes found Neal curled up on the couch and he instantly heaved a sigh of relief. Now that he was listening, he could hear Neal's soft snores. He wondered why Neal was over there rather than in bed with him though. They hadn't argued about anything before going to bed, so he didn't think Neal was upset with him. He could be wrong though… He slid off of the bed and silently neared Neal. He knelt in front of the couch, watching his lover sleep. It was something…beautiful, something innocent. That was just about the only innocence Neal possessed, which saddened him.

Peter stroked Neal's hair, whispering, "Honey?" Neal startled out of his sleep, his eyes flickering up to Peter's face quickly. "Hey," he said softly. Neal didn't respond and now that Peter was looking, he could see drying tear trails down the sides of Neal's face. "Neal, what's wrong?" Neal shook his head and tried to bury himself into the cushion to avoid Peter. "Don't do this," he said gently, prying Neal out of his insecurity by the shoulders. "You know you can talk to me. There's nothing you can't tell me, honey."

"I keep seeing them," he finally said, staring up at Peter warily. Peter didn't have to ask who he was referring to, knowing Neal well enough by now to understand most of what was going on in his mind. "It scares me." Peter nodded, continuing to stroke Neal's hair now that the younger man was talking to him. He sighed shakily. "I didn't want to wake you up. I was thrashing around and woke myself up when I hit my wrist on the nightstand kind of hard."

Peter's brows furrowed. Neal didn't hesitate to present his wrist to Peter, knowing Peter wanted to check him for his own good. It made him love Peter more, knowing Peter cared that much. "I'm sorry, babe," he said quietly. "I wish I could do something to help. I really do."

Neal shook his head. "I only come out of that dark place because of you." He lowered his eyes to Peter's chest for a moment before meeting Peter's eyes again, finding all the love and sincerity in those beautifully brown eyes. "If you weren't here for me, I'd be stuck in my nightmares." Peter didn't agree nor disagree with that. He didn't want to think about what Neal's life would be like if they'd never met—never gotten together. He'd been thinking about it too much lately and found it disconcerting each time. He _is_ with Neal. There's no reason to wonder where they'd be if they weren't together. Peter leaned over Neal, cautiously planting kisses along Neal's neck and jaw. "Peter, I…I don't like to admit it because I _know_ what you'll say and I know you'll look at me like I'm causing you pain, but I-I feel…_dirty._"

True to form, Peter replied, "You shouldn't, hon. I don't see anything wrong with you."

"Of course you don't." Neal laughed bitterly, his heart clenching. It hurt him even more when he looked up at Peter and found pain in his eyes in place of the immense love he felt. He sighed. "I know, but… Peter, just imagine—" He killed that thought immediately in its tracks. "_No, don't._" Peter nodded. It wasn't like he hadn't imagined how bad things had been. Hell, he had his first nightmare about Neal's rape while he was still in the hospital with Neal. He'd not had a nightmare quite like that until a few months ago and then again a few days ago. "You know how fucked up I am," he whispered. "When you met me, I had my past with Adler hanging over my head." He held Peter's gaze levelly, making sure he wasn't pissing Peter off. That was the last thing he wanted to do. "You…accepted me then—after I spent twenty years stuck in the past while trying to live in the present. I admit that you balanced me when you became such an important component of my life." He shifted to lay on his back and Peter lifted himself onto the couch, his hand resting on Neal's thigh. "Craig shifted and ruined that balance. Sometimes I have to wonder if you've had to overcompensate for that. I felt so…dirty after Adler." He closed his eyes while Peter stroked his thigh affectionately. "I don't think I'll ever be clean again, Peter, and I'm sorry. All the showers and tests for AIDS and other STDs in the world couldn't make me feel clean and, because of that, have I…made you work harder?"

"I've worked as much as I can and pushed myself further when it matters—and it always matters. If you're asking if you've inconvenienced me, then the answer is simple: no." He took Neal's hand and held it on Neal's stomach, waiting for the younger man to open his eyes. "You are the most important man in my life. If I couldn't handle this, accept this, I'd probably have left you a long time ago." Neal frowned and Peter squeezed his hand. "I'm here, Neal, and I want to _stay_ here."

Neal looked uncertain as he worried his lip. Peter wanted to suck on Neal's lower lip, but pushed that urge aside, knowing full well that Neal didn't need him thinking like that while they were discussing this. He wanted to ask Neal to stop biting his lip because it was so damn arousing, but he thought better of that. "With…me?" he asked, his voice sounding so small.

Peter sighed. "Of course _with you,_ you dork," he said teasingly. "I wouldn't have it any other way, my love." He noticed how distant Neal had become all of a sudden and he sobered up, deciding that teasing Neal wasn't appropriate either. "Talk to me," he whispered.

"Why can't… Why can't I just live my life?" he asked brokenly. "I can't go a day without something upsetting me or sending me spiraling into hell. It's not fucking fair. It's not fair to you. It's not fair to Nicky. It's just not fair." Peter, under different circumstances, might have smiled at how petulant Neal sounded, but this wasn't the time nor the place. Something was really hurting Neal and he'd vowed as Neal's lover to be there for him. "God damn it, Peter," he choked out before covering his face with his palms, his shoulders trembling as nearly silent sobs wracked his body.

Peter shushed him, gently urging Neal to sit up. When he complied, Peter held him close. "You're right," Peter said. "It isn't fair. Above all else, it isn't fair to _you._" Neal's breathing was erratic and Peter was starting to wonder if this was some kind of emotional breakdown or panic attack. "I'm not going to give you the bullshit cliché that life isn't fair. It's fair for people who don't deserve it, who haven't worked for it." He gently pried Neal's hands away from Neal's face, his heart breaking when he watched Neal cry. "You're a wonderful person, an amazing father, a spectacular FBI agent, an overprotective older brother, and an exceptional lover." He wiped Neal's tears away with his thumbs. "I don't know why this happened to you. I hate it. I hate seeing you this way. It hurts, honey, to know that I can't do anything to help _this._"

"Then don't," Neal stammered. "I-I don't want you to feel like you're obli…obligated to—"

"That is _not_ what I meant," Peter said firmly. "Listen to me. I'm going to sound like a jackass and you'll probably get pissed at me, but I'm going to say it anyway." Neal looked confused for a moment. "You're an idiot," he said simply. Neal didn't hear any underlying bitterness or anger. If anything, he felt like Peter was saying it endearingly. "I've been with you through all of this. I didn't leave when I found out about Nicky. I didn't leave when you told me what Adler did to you. I didn't leave during any argument we had. I don't plan on leaving you now." He kissed Neal's lips firmly for a second. "When are you going to understand that my heart belongs to _you?_"

Neal trembled. "I'm sorry."

Peter shook his head, holding Neal's head against his, pressing their foreheads together. "You still don't know how to accept that someone truly loves you and I'm sorry that the men before me broke your heart to make you so cautious, but, Neal…" Neal closed his eyes, waiting for some kind of ultimatum, for Peter to say something that would end their relationship. "I promise you: you're going to be my husband. I will do anything and everything for you until and beyond that point." Neal nodded, clenching his jaw. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to stop the tears before they fell. "I want to make you happy, hon. I hate that you're miserable."

"It isn't your—"

"I know that," Peter said gently. "I'm going to do everything I can to get you past this. I don't care how long it takes. I'm not leaving your side. I will always…_always_ be here for you, even if you don't think you need me."

Neal choked out, "God damn it," before throwing his arms around Peter, holding him tightly. "I _do_ need you. I need you more than I thought I did. I…can't do this alone. I can't…" He didn't want to say he couldn't be alone. He felt stupid and worthless as it was. He didn't feel the need to add further embarrassment to the situation.

Peter nodded, slowly stroking Neal's hair before cradling the back of his head. "I'm not going to leave you alone," he promised. "I'm yours, Neal. I don't want to be without you."

He held Neal for a long time after that, stroking his hair, kissing his neck, and sliding his hand up and down Neal's back alternatively until Neal eventually tired himself out as a result of all the crying he'd done. Peter practically carried him to bed, laid him down gently, and crawled over him to lay beside him, facing Neal. He pressed a soft kiss against Neal's lips, watching as Neal's eyelids drooped and finally closed.

•◊•

After work, Peter dropped Neal and Nicky off at home, claiming El called him and asked for him to stop over. He promised Neal he'd be home soon and Neal said, "Better be by dinner or you're heating up leftovers from the other night."

Now, he was sitting in Elizabeth's living room with Alex and Mozzie, a cell phone lying in the middle of the wooden table. Peter didn't want to hear what was on that phone, but he needed to. "Play it," Peter finally said after about fifteen minutes of contemplation.

Alex nodded and played the recording. "_Fowler?_"

"_Yes, it's me. I want an update._"

Craig chuckled and moaned. "_He's delightful. God, do I love his screams…_" Peter's gut twisted, bile rising in his throat. He felt sick, knowing these two cruel bastards took pleasure in harming the only man he loved with all of his heart and soul. "_Anyway, I'm taking care of him as you asked._"

Fowler made a sound of approval. "_Does he bleed?_" Craig gave him an affirmative. "_Did you record it?_"

"_Of course. I want it for myself, too, you know…_"

Fowler sighed. "_I don't care about your pleasure. You can have a copy, damn it. Just fuck him—hard. Get your lackeys involved. That ought to spice things up for him a bit._"

Peter closed his eyes, trying to rein his anger in. The only relief he felt came with the realization that Craig hadn't done as Fowler suggested and, for that, he was grateful. Neal could have been in a state that he wouldn't have come back from if he'd been raped by multiple men. "_Fowler, I don't understand what you're getting out of this. I'm getting sex. What are you getting?_"

Fowler was quiet for a moment. "_Revenge. The knowledge that I'm putting the little shit in his place. Using his boyfriend to get him was the perfect plan, don't you agree?_" Craig did agree with him and it sickened Peter. He still felt responsible for this, but he also didn't know how he could have stopped Neal from pleading to save him. If their positions had been reversed, there was no doubt about it that he'd have done the same thing for Neal.

He listened closely to noises in the background and he could hear Neal. His lips parted and his eyes opened. He'd only imagined the sounds of agony Neal would've made. This sounded like pure torture from a distance. No wonder Neal was so…anxious and wary. He hadn't blamed him for that before hearing this phone call and he wasn't going to blame him now. Neal had every right to feel exposed and unguarded. "_I'm going to get back to him. He's starting to sound restless and I think I've left him alone too long._"

Peter knew he was going to hang up, but Fowler halted that entirely. "_Keep the phone on. I want to hear it—just this once, before I get the recording._" Peter stared at the phone in horror as it stayed on. He heard Craig set it down and speak to Neal. Well, speak was putting it nicely. He was slandering Neal.

"_What a good, little whore you've been,_" Craig muttered. Neal groaned as the sound of slap after slap began. He was hitting Neal and Neal was trying to take it without giving in, but it wasn't working very well. Craig was moaning and then he heard Neal grunt. "_You know you're supposed to stay on your stomach if I'm not touching you,_" he growled. "_Hands and knees now._"

Peter felt like he was going to be sick. Listening to this made him feel as though he'd taken part in what happened. Neal obviously shifted, letting out small, painful sounds. Mere moments later, Neal's painful sounds were louder. "_Stop, please,_" Neal begged, sounding as though he was gritting his teeth.

"_Shut up,_" Craig growled. Neal cried out suddenly and then Peter knew when Craig was inside Neal. The sound of skin slapping against skin was undoubtedly sex. There hadn't been any preparation involved and it made Peter's heart hurt. He never meant to hurt Neal during sex, but he still did on occasion _with_ preparation. Neal was being abused entirely and Peter's assumptions about Neal's insides being destroyed seemed all too real now. He clenched his jaw when Neal's breathing became ragged. He didn't even plead for Craig to stop anymore after that. He just took it, letting himself be hurt until it was over. He had no idea how Neal could have done that. Perhaps it was conditioning left behind by Adler, but that thought wasn't comforting either. He didn't like that Neal knew how to let a man do something like this to him without putting up a fight. Peter knew when it was over, too. Then the call ended.

Peter gaped at the phone in front of him, tears in his eyes. That was only one session. There was no telling how many they'd had and how much he hurt Neal each time. Elizabeth had her hand over her mouth, sobbing quietly from the kitchen. She hadn't meant to listen in, but this was her home and they weren't exactly trying to hide it. Mozzie and Peter were both heartbroken after listening to the call. "There were more calls," Alex said quietly.

Peter shook his head. "I can't listen to more," he said, his voice sounding as if he were being strangled. "Not right now. This was… Holy shit." He dropped his face into both of his hands, breathing in and out slowly. Just as he was considering allowing himself to sob for Neal, his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He fumbled for it, answering with an almost normal, "Hey, hon."

"_Hey._"

Peter's brows furrowed and he grew concerned. "Everything all right?"

Neal was silent for a few moments. It was too long for Peter's comfort. "_No. I think I'm going to have a panic attack…or something,_" he whispered.

"All right." He stood up and started moving to grab his jacket. "I'm on my way home, hon. Just…stay on the line with me, okay?" Mozzie, Alex, and El looked concerned and he briefly explained without telling them too much that, "He needs me. I have to go." They nodded and he took off, getting into the _Taurus._ "Babe, I'm going to put the phone down and call you from the car. Is that okay?" Neal murmured something that sounded like 'yes,' so he tentatively disconnected the call and reached forward to initiate another with the car. On the first ring, he answered. "Talk to me, hon. If you need to talk nonstop, then do it. I'm here. I'm listening."

Neal breathed shakily. "_I put Nicky to bed. Michael is spending the night with a friend. June's out of town. I…I feel…_"

He seemed at a loss for words and Peter wasn't sure if that meant Neal's emotions were out of control. "Alone?" he prompted.

"_Yes. There's no one here._"

Peter frowned. "Hon, if you need someone, you can go to my parents until I get there. Do you want to do that?"

"_No. I just want you,_" he whispered. He started to say something else, but dropped the phone. He could hear Neal whimpering and hoped Neal would pick it back up. As he drove, rain began to pour. He found that disturbing, considering Neal sounded like he was on the brink of crying if he wasn't already. He listened to Neal, trying to ask Neal to pick it up, hoping his voice was loud enough for Neal to hear.

The call disconnected suddenly and Peter went into panic mode. Instead of allowing the radio silence, he dialed his dad. It was late, but Peter didn't care and he knew his dad wouldn't either. They both loved Neal, so they'd both do anything for him. As soon as the phone picked up, Peter didn't give his dad a chance to talk. "Dad, I need you to go check on Neal. We were on the phone. He called me, thinking he's going to have a panic attack. Call ended abruptly."

His dad didn't answer, but Peter heard him moving. "_Neal,_" he called out. He was trying to open the door, to no avail apparently. "_Peter, he's locked the door and he's not responding._"

"Damn it," Peter hissed. He stepped on the gas. "Keep trying, please. I'm trying to get there quickly." He listened to his dad continue to call out for Neal to open the door, then it became begging until Peter's stomach was in knots. By the time he'd gotten home, he thought he might get sick. It'd been about half an hour. Anything could've happened in that space of time and that's what worried him. He raced up the stairs, soaking wet, as he pried his keys out of his pocket. He'd definitely need to get one for his parents at some point in case something like this ever happened again—_if_ it happened again. For all he knew, Neal committed suicide.

"I haven't heard a thing," Jon said, his voice frantic. "I don't know if he's…" Jon shook his head, not wanting to believe his thoughts that mirrored Peter's own.

He jammed the key into the lock and unlocked it, shoving the door. He threw his keys on the floor and raced in. "Neal!" he cried out as lightning flashed. He saw Neal's phone on the floor near the balcony and his heart nearly stopped until he looked out and saw Neal in a chair, curled into himself, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. "Oh, my God. Neal," he said, relieved. He went out onto the balcony and touched Neal's shoulder. The younger man startled and looked up at him, completely soaked. "You scared the hell out of me," he said, dropping to his knees. Neal's eyes followed him, but he didn't respond. "Hon, come inside. You're going to freeze out here—and then the rain might freeze and start pelting you."

Neal's eyes closed and he remained silent. Jon came out onto the balcony, looking down at his son. Peter looked lost. "Let's get him inside," Jon said quietly. Peter rose to his feet and the two of them lifted Neal, nearly dragging him since he refused to walk. They barely made it to the bathroom before Neal fell into a sitting position, leaning against the bathtub. "Start toweling him down and I'll get him a change of clothes," Jon ordered, leaving to do as he said he would.

Peter grabbed a towel and started rubbing it over Neal's visible skin. He'd dry him off more efficiently once his dad brought clothes back. "Hon, can you talk to me?" he asked gently as he toweled Neal's face and neck. "I'm really worried about you."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, lowering his eyes to the floor. He looked embarrassed and Peter didn't know why. He didn't need to feel that way. This was something serious and Peter was very, very concerned. Jon returned, setting the dry clothing down on the toilet lid. Neal didn't look at either of the two men in the room with him.

Peter stroked Neal's cheek, staring at his face. "Neal, can you tell me what happened?" He shrugged his shoulders before allowing them to slump again. He wasn't willing to cooperate. "Honey, please. I want to help you. I can't do that unless you—"

"I don't want to, Peter!" he cried out exasperatedly, staring at his lover with wide, pained eyes. Peter didn't say anything. He wouldn't push Neal. Jon rubbed Peter's shoulder before heading out, leaving the two of them alone. He went to sit at the dining room table just so he was there if they needed him.

Neal was covering his face now. Peter gently grabbed the hem of Neal's shirt, whispering, "Hon, we need to get you out of these wet clothes. Will you let me help you change?"

He heaved a shaky sigh. "No. I'll do it myself." He uncovered his face and struggled for a moment to push himself up from the floor. He undressed himself self-consciously, his eyes flickering over to Peter occasionally, a wild look in them. He dropped his wet clothes onto the floor and, once he was dressed, Peter put them into a hamper that he'd get around to washing later. Neal stood in front of the sink, avoiding the mirror entirely.

"Neal?" His gut told him Neal was about to snap. He didn't take his eyes off of Neal. As soon as the younger man looked at himself in the mirror, his lips curled back in disgust, a deep anger flashing in his eyes. Peter surged forward a moment too late. Neal balled his right hand into a fist and smashed the glass, shattering it across the sink. He grabbed Neal's hand, staring in horror at the bloody mess. He looked into Neal's eyes and saw fear and surprise.

The door flew open and Jon came back in. He saw the mess of shattered glass and looked at Neal. "Get him out of here. I'll clean this up, Peter."

Peter nodded, grabbing the towel. He wrapped it around Neal's hand and herded him out of the bathroom, down the hall, and to the couch. He sat Neal down on it and knelt in front of him, resting his hands on Neal's thighs. "Honey, you need to talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't…I can't stand by while you're hurting." The look in Neal's eyes now _frightened_ him. Neal's eyes were deadened, as though he didn't care about or feel anything. "Neal, please."

He still got no response. Instead, Neal gently moved Peter's hands off of him and rose to his feet. He walked over to the bed and dropped down onto it, pulling the blanket over his entire body with Peter staring at him in confusion and worry. He'd never seen Neal like this before.


	38. Chapter 38

"Neal, can you tell us why you're here?"

Neal stared at the woman across from him, then glanced around at the others in the circle. He swallowed hard, lowering his eyes to the floor. "My boyfriend thought this would help," he muttered. He knew that wasn't the answer she was looking for, but he couldn't find it in him to care. He didn't want to be in a group therapy session, but he also hadn't been opening up to Peter, so he understood why Peter asked him to do this. "I was raped."

The woman, Sara, nodded. He couldn't look at any of them and he really didn't want to. A lot of the people in the circle were _women._ He felt so uncomfortable, especially because he knew the stereotypical belief that men weren't raped because they could defend themselves. "How old were you when it happened?" she asked gently.

He exasperatedly said, "Thirteen and thirty-three."

He regretted looking up the instant he did it. Three women that he saw immediately looked at him—pitied him. "I was raped when I was sixteen," a young woman spoke up, giving Neal a kind smile. "Do you still have nightmares?" He nodded slowly. She looked too sweet for his comfort and he wondered why she wanted to buddy up with him. "I'm Rebecca—Rebecca Lowe."

He didn't respond, so Sara continued on with the rest of the circle, allowing open discussions about particular traumatic experiences each person experienced. The two other men in the room were here because they'd abused their girlfriends, which made Neal feel even more inadequate. They were _real_ men—bastards for hurting their partners, but real men nonetheless. Neal could imagine Peter beating him, though he knew Peter would never do that, but he could never see himself doing that to anyone he'd ever been with. He didn't want to think about hurting Peter. He'd done that enough emotionally already.

When the hour was up, everyone grabbed their jackets and started heading out. He tried to make a quick escape, knowing Peter would be out there waiting for him, but a gentle hand gripped his shoulder. He spun to see Rebecca. "What?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

Her smile faltered for a split second. "I thought we might talk for a few minutes, if that's okay with you."

He _really_ didn't want to. "My boyfriend—"

"—wouldn't mind waiting." He turned again to look up at Peter. "Hey, sweetheart," he said quietly, pecking Neal's lips gently. Neal thought about pleading with Peter, begging him to take them home, but he was so tired of being _that._ "Who's your friend?"

Neal was silent, so she introduced herself, extending a hand towards Peter. "I'm Rebecca Lowe."

Peter smiled at her. "Peter Burke. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lowe."

She grinned at him and Neal bristled at the sight of Peter returning that expression. He didn't want to be here and he didn't want Peter assuming he made a friend—or making friends with said assumptive-friends. "Neal was pretty brave for his first day," she commented. "I told him I was sixteen when the same thing happened to me."

Peter nodded. He watched Neal, wondering why Neal didn't want to befriend this woman. They could relate in ways that he and Neal couldn't. Peter hadn't been raped or beaten by someone close to him, so he didn't know how it felt. He didn't know how to help Neal through his struggle, so perhaps this Rebecca could do for Neal what he couldn't. "I highly doubt it was the same thing," Neal said under his breath. Peter was the only one who caught that, fortunately.

He thought about sighing, but he knew Neal was already irritated enough. "How about we all go out for lunch?"

"I want to go home," Neal said.

Rebecca shook her head. "Maybe another time," she suggested. "See you next week, Neal?"

He barely gave her a nod in response. She frowned, readjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder before walking past the two men. Peter waited to see if Neal would speak first. When he brushed past Peter, Peter tugged on his shoulder. "Hon, what's wrong?"

Neal shrugged him off, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. He walked down the hallway, Peter trailing him, and out of the building. He stood by the passenger door, waiting for Peter to unlock the car. As soon as he did, Neal pulled the door open and slid in, pulling his seatbelt on quickly. Peter watched him in silence. "I don't want to do this again," Neal said angrily. "I don't like talking about it with strangers. I barely want to discuss it at home, so I don't know why you thought this would help."

"Hon, listen to me, okay? I didn't force you to do this. I asked if you'd be willing to try and you said yes." He tried to take Neal's hand in his, but Neal moved his hand to rest on his own lap. "I only asked because I'm worried about you. I can't help you, so I thought this might because then you'll be able to talk to others who dealt with the same thing. Neal, I think you should try to befriend Rebecca. You were kind of cold when she—"

"I really don't want to talk about this," Neal said firmly. He glanced at Peter, receiving a questioning look. "Peter, I'm the only guy who got raped in that room. She's a woman. It's more common." Peter didn't respond. "Do you know how they looked at me in there when I admitted to the rape?" When Peter still didn't answer, he continued. "They pity me. You know how much I fucking hate pity. They're all just a bunch of overly emotional women who—"

"—and what does that make you?" Peter bit out. Neal stopped talking, staring at the dashboard. He hadn't expected Peter to snap at him. "Don't be so judgmental, Neal. These people may not have suffered as intensely as you did, but their pain is the equivalent of yours to them. If one of them had been beaten by their father or another relative, they might think it's as bad as how you feel about being raped."

Neal didn't think of it like that. He saw himself as being surrounded by people who weren't able to defend themselves and felt like he should've been able to do something to prevent his own problems because he's _supposed_ to be able to protect himself. "Until you get raped, I don't want you to tell me that their problems are as bad as mine," he hissed. Peter's eyes widened, a flash of hurt crossing his expression. He knew Neal didn't mean that, but it still hurt. He blinked back a few tears before starting up the car. He didn't want to ignore Neal, but he also felt that he didn't deserve to get chewed out for trying to help Neal either. He backed out of the parking space and turned the car to start heading home. They drove for several minutes in silence. Neal stared out of his window with his arms crossed over his chest. When they stopped at a red light, Neal's arms uncrossed and he sighed, resting his head against the headrest of his seat. "I'm sorry. What I said was uncalled for. You didn't deserve that."

Peter shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I know you don't mean it. I'm not mad." Neal frowned, briefly looking at Peter before focusing on the road as snow came down on it. He wanted to ask Peter a million questions, but didn't feel like he had the right to question Peter after saying what he did. "Do you want to tell me what you're thinking about?" Peter asked as he drove off from the light.

"Why are you still with me?" he blurted out. Peter's brows furrowed. "I want to know why you stay when I make you so miserable. I complicate your life, Peter."

"What makes you think I'm miserable? _And_ how do you believe you complicate my life?"

Neal frowned again. He knew Peter was doing some sort of reverse psychology on him and it pissed him off a little, but he wanted to have this discussion. "We haven't had sex in three weeks. The last time we did was the night before your parents left and you barely wanted to do it."

Peter reached over, resting his hand on Neal's shoulder. "It wasn't that I didn't want to do it," he reassured him. "Neal, I was afraid that I'd scare you."

"And that's how I complicate things," he muttered. "You shouldn't have to think about scaring me when we're fucking. That's not fair to you."

Peter sighed. "I don't care about the fairness of it. The reality of it is that you're afraid of sex. I make love to you, Neal, but that doesn't mean I can't scare you just as easily." He slid his hand down Neal's arm until he was able to hold Neal's hand. "I love you. Making you cry before I've even started isn't exactly part of the lovemaking agenda."

Neal thought about pulling his hand out of Peter's for a moment, but banished that urge immediately. "When we get home, can we try again?"

"No." Neal's heart hurt. Peter was too damn smart for that and Neal knew it. "We aren't doing anything sexual until you're all right. I'm not saying one hundred percent _fine._ I want you to feel comfortable. I don't want you to cry when I touch you or scream when I'm just about to slip into you."

"I won't do that anymore." Peter looked at him and Neal ducked his head. "Fine," he said petulantly. "We'll play it your way." Peter squeezed his hand and Neal considered pulling away again, but he knew Peter was doing this for his own good. Peter did everything he could to make Neal feel better and it didn't seem like Neal was budging at all sometimes.

Peter glanced over at Neal for a moment. "Are you going to go back next week?"

Neal shrugged. "I don't know. We'll see." Peter nodded, taking that as enough of an answer. He figured it was all he'd get out of Neal at this point. The remainder of the ride home was quiet.

As soon as they got into the apartment, Neal took his jacket and boots off almost immediately, followed by his pants and crawled into bed. Peter sighed, taking his boots and jacket off. He didn't immediately get into bed with Neal. He wandered over to the kitchen and started to make himself some hot chocolate. He made enough for two in case Neal wanted some. He heard the bed creak and Neal pad across the room. When Neal was behind Peter, his arms circled around the older man and he pressed the side of his face against Peter's back. Peter rested one hand on Neal's arms while he stirred with the other. "You okay, hon?"

"No," he muttered. "I'm mad at myself."

"Why?"

Neal kissed Peter's back before pressing the side of his face against him again. "Because I realize I haven't been fair or nice to you in a while," he whispered. "I'm really sorry for all of the cruel things I've been saying. I don't know why I say them because I know you're trying to help."

Peter turned in Neal's arms, keeping them around him. "You know I love you regardless of how you talk to me," Peter assured him. "Unless you start calling me your bitch or other derogatory names, I'm fine."

"I've been an asshole, but I wouldn't do that to you," Neal said quietly. "None of those words apply to you. They certainly apply to—"

"Don't do that," Peter warned. "You know I hate when you put yourself down, sweetheart." He kissed Neal's forehead. "You're not a whore or a slut or a bitch, Neal. Stop thinking you are, okay?" Neal frowned, lowering his eyes to Peter's chest. "You're my wonderful man, the partner I wouldn't trade for any other man in the universe. Nobody could be you."

"Nobody would be stupid enough to get raped twice in—" Peter shrugged himself out of Neal's arms and turned away from him. He wasn't angry, but he was admittedly upset with Neal. "Peter, I'm sorry."

He kept his back to Neal. "Are you really or do you just not want me to ignore you?"

Neal frowned, staring at Peter's back. "I really am sorry. I'm so—" He cut himself off. "I can't control what I say sometimes, which is a sad excuse, but I'm not thinking right anymore."

Peter turned, holding two mugs of hot chocolate. "Want one?" Neal nodded slowly and Peter gave him the blue mug. They stood face to face for a few minutes, sipping their hot chocolate before Peter spoke again. "I can't stand to hear you degrade yourself, honey," he whispered. "You're inflicting pain on yourself by saying those things, but you're also hurting me. I love you as you are and none of what happened changes that."

"Thank you, Peter," Neal said quietly, staring into Peter's eyes. "You mean a lot to me—like a _lot._ I'd probably wither away without you here. I want you to know that I appreciate all of what you've done for me." Peter gave him a small smile. "I should know I'm lucky to have you. You love me unconditionally, which is beyond me sometimes, but you love me nonetheless."

Peter shifted his mug in his hands, reaching up with his left to stroke Neal's cheek, the warmth of his hand making Neal close his eyes, his lips parting as he nuzzled his face against Peter's palm. "I'll always love you this way. I don't want to get out of this relationship. I've told you repeatedly that you aren't weak. I've seen you at work and with Nicky. You can be a real badass when you want to be." Neal laughed, opening his eyes. "You're a strong man. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here having this conversation with me."

Neal nodded, understanding how sincerely Peter meant that. "I love you," he whispered. He tilted his face up towards Peter, hoping Peter would see what he wanted.

Fortunately, he did. Peter leaned forward to kiss Neal, whispering, "I love you," against his lips. "So much more than you'd ever believe I'm capable of."

Neal sighed, resting his forehead against Peter's. "I know you're capable of so much," Neal admitted. "I see it every time you look at me. There's never a moment when that love is completely gone and that's a…relief."

The older man sighed, pecking Neal's lips again. "Then listen to me when I tell you that I love you and I want to help, okay?"

He nodded, looking into Peter's eyes. Peter shifted them to pull Neal into a tight hug. Neal rested his head on Peter's shoulder, closing his eyes to listen to the breathing of his lover. "I'm trying to listen," he whispered. "It'll take time…"

"I know. And I'll be right here through it all."

•◊•

Neal dropped a folder onto Peter's desk, staring levelly at his boss and lover. "When am I going to get actual field work again?"

Peter looked up from what he was doing on the computer and sighed. "When I think you'll be able to handle it," Peter said gently. "Right now, we're on desk duty, okay?"

That wasn't good enough for him. "You still get fielded when I'm not around."

"Because I—" He stopped and stared at Neal, his own eyes widened when he saw the realization dawn on Neal's face. "Honey, don't jump to conclu—"

He laughed and turned to walk away. "You know what? Fine. Do your job and I'll do mine. I'm just a probie." He stood in the doorway for a moment before leaving, heading down into the bullpen to sit at his desk. Peter sighed, palming his face in his hand.

Diana came in and Peter almost asked her to leave. "Everything all right, boss? Caffrey didn't look happy."

"He's pissed at me," Peter said with a sigh. "He doesn't want me restricting him at work and now he thinks I believe he's incapable of working in the field again, which isn't true."

She raised an eyebrow. "He's been getting better, Peter. I think—"

He shook his head. "Neal doesn't know where he stands on the good and bad scale. He's been closed up for a while now. I have him doing group therapy, which doesn't thrill him either." He looked beyond Diana to watch Neal, seeing the pent up frustration and aggravation. "He has less than a month to go before he's a Special Agent, Diana."

"What are you thinking?"

"He's been solving these files for several months now to absolute perfection. It's so perfect that I'm shocked. He's a brilliant man underneath all of that pain." Diana frowned and then Peter focused on her. "I want to put him back in the field. Next month, I'll have to unless I provide a reasonable excuse to have him kept out longer, which will probably make him hate me."

"Have you talked to Hughes?"

He nodded, sighing. "He thinks I should give Neal another chance. If things don't go well, I can have him on deskwork again. I'm worried about him, Diana."

She gave him a small smile. "You wouldn't be Peter Burke if you didn't worry about him." He nodded slowly, looking at his hands. "But there's something else bothering you and I can tell by the look on your face that it isn't work related."

"You are too damn good at that," he muttered, "but you're right. Di, I'm gonna propose to him soon and, in light of recent events, I honestly don't know if he'll say yes."

Her eyes softened and she took a seat in front of the desk. "You know that he loves you underneath all of his anger and sorrow, boss. Why do you think he's doing the group therapy? He wants to make you happy—proud of him, even."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You already knew about his therapy." It wasn't a question. "Diana, did he tell you he wants me to be proud of him?"

"Kinda." He looked out into the bullpen and frowned when he saw Neal scribbling across a paper at warpspeed, doing the job Peter demanded he do. "He's kept quiet about all the deskwork because he doesn't want to disappoint you or make you think he can't handle even that."

"He's been talking to you?"

He couldn't stop himself from sounding accusatory. "No," she said softly. "He has a journal."

Peter's eyes flickered back up to Diana's face. "A journal? And you're stalking him?"

She rolled her eyes. "Boss, you need to see it, I think. His… You just need to see it."

The two of them went about their business until lunch time. He left his office and headed into the bullpen, stopping beside Neal's desk. Neal didn't look up at him and that bothered Peter. "Do you want to eat lunch with me?"

"I'll eat with the other probies, _boss._" Peter cringed. Neal closed another folder and added it to the pile he'd already finished, which was impressive. He went to work thoroughly reading the new file until he realized Peter was still standing there. "You can go eat, but you don't need _my_ permission," he muttered, looking back at his file.

Peter closed his eyes for a moment. He really needed to work this out with Neal. They couldn't let this affect their relationship, but Neal didn't really want to be considered a subordinate in general when it came to Peter. "I love you," Peter whispered, turning to head to the elevator.

He waited for the elevator and actually hoped Neal would change his mind. He tried not to be disappointed or upset by the fact that Neal hadn't said he loved Peter, too, but it was bothering him. Moments after he stepped into the elevator, Neal's arm stopped the doors from closing. Peter looked at him, confused. The younger man bit his lip, but stepped forward to kiss Peter. "I didn't want you to leave without that," he whispered as he backed off. "I love you, Peter."

Neal stood outside of the elevator, frowning until Peter tried to get him to smile with one of his own. Neal's heart fluttered when Peter smiled like that at him and he couldn't resist returning it, even if a minimal amount of effort had been put into it in that moment.

Peter ate his lunch alone, thinking about what he was going to do. He didn't want them to drift apart, though the kiss in the elevator was enlightening. It still worried him that Neal would think Peter was trying to dominate him in the workplace. That was the furthest thing from Peter's mind, but Neal might see it that way and transfer it to their home life. Peter didn't want Neal submitting at work or at home. They both had a responsibility at work and Peter had to put their jobs before their relationship, but make their relationship still matter regardless.

When he went back into the building, he passed by Neal's desk, expecting to see him there with another file. He was surprised that Neal wasn't there. He left a note on the desk though. '_Back soon. Eating lunch with Diana. Love you. N._'

As much as he didn't want to do it, he took the opportunity to go through Neal's desk area in search of the journal Diana mentioned. He ended up finding it on top of the desk under a bunch of Neal's paperwork. He glanced around and snuck it into his suit jacket, heading back up to his office. When he was in the office again, he laid the journal down on the desk and debated on whether or not this was invading Neal's privacy. He loves Neal, but does that give him the right to look through Neal's things?

Unfortunately, he decided it did. He opened the journal and his jaw dropped. Neal's thoughts were darker than he realized. '_Peter's disappointed with me._' That was just the beginning and this was dated last week. '_I don't know how to tell him I'm okay without telling myself I'm lying to him. I can feel them. Craig's hands around my throat, Adler's hand in my mouth, their dicks inside of me. I can't get those feelings to go away and they hurt. I can feel the pain as if they were just inside of me. I feel it before Peter has the chance to make love with me. I wish I were dead just to spare him of this petty bullshit._' Peter's eyes started watering. He knew Neal still felt and saw things that weren't real, but he hadn't realized it was this bad. '_I want to tell him he can be rough with me, but he's right. I'm too scared. When we try, I just want to flip over onto my hands and knees and let him do whatever he wants so I don't have to look at him. That only makes my heart hurt more. It makes me feel dead inside to know that I can't even enjoy my husband-to-be._' He was stunned by the last phrase, but kept reading. '_I feel like he's just waiting for me to break and it's scary. If he puts me into a confinement cell again, I think I will kill myself—successfully. I love him to death and I want to be able to lay down beneath him and laugh when he thinks the way our bodies slip and slide against each other is silly. I need to be able to—_'

"What the hell are you doing?" Peter startled and looked up to see pure betrayal and pain in Neal's eyes. Peter closed the journal and stood up, trying to defend himself. "God damn it, Peter!" He wouldn't let Peter answer him. "Just keep the damn thing. My immediate feelings don't mean a damn thing after all." He turned on his heels and went straight for his jacket behind his desk.

Peter chased after him. "Neal, wait! Listen to—"

"No," Neal growled as he whirled on Peter. "I'm going home. Whether you come home tonight or not isn't my concern." Peter tried to reach out for him, but Neal backed away. His eyes were pleading with Neal, but Neal was furious. "Have a nice day, Agent Burke," he said before getting into the elevator and jamming the 'close door' button until it did close.

Peter just stood there, dumbfounded. How did things go to hell so quickly?


	39. Chapter 39

Peter went home considerably late, giving Neal time to cool off and himself time to think about what he'll say to Neal when he gets home. He wondered how Neal got home and then how Neal got Nicky home since Neal left the car for Peter and it was below zero outside. He could have easily screwed Peter over for invading his privacy, but he didn't feel up to it. Peter went into the apartment as quietly as he could manage and wasn't surprised by the absolute darkness. He took his jacket, boots, and clothes off, heading over to the bathroom to take a warm shower.

When he got out, he saw the glow of Neal's laptop screen on their bed. He stepped cautiously towards the bed, stopping a few feet from it. "You're allowed to lay down with me if you want," Neal whispered.

"I…" Neal turned the nightstand light on. As soon as he did, Peter saw how red Neal's eyes were. "Honey, I'm so sorry… I should have known better." Neal shrugged, scooting over to give Peter room to lay down. He crawled in and stared at Neal's face, an apologetic look on his face. "Have you been upset all night?"

Neal nodded. "I'm still kind of pissed, but I guess I have to get over it. Still, as a member of law enforcement, you should've known you had no right looking into it. I hid it under everything for a reason. Looking into my personal files in a database and looking into my thoughts in a journal are two completely different types of stalking." Peter leaned towards him, kissing his bare shoulder, not even considering it as any efficient apology. "You're my partner, but I have a right to my privacy, Peter. It makes me feel like you don't trust me because you had to go behind my back and look into my personal journal." He knew what he'd done was wrong the moment he did it, but he'd done it nonetheless and Neal caught him in the act. He was lucky that Neal simmered down after earlier. "How did you know about the journal anyway?" Peter bit his lip and Neal sighed. "I think Diana saw it, so she probably told you."

Peter frowned. "Neal, I'm so sorry. I was concerned about you and that only…" Neal's eyes seemed dull when he looked into them. "Hon, I wish you'd talked to me instead of writing that down. You can tell me anything. Why didn't you feel like you could come to me?"

"Because I don't like feeling so weak and worthless. I know you'll tell me I'm not, but it's how I see myself. You replaced the mirror in the bathroom and I'm still so tempted to smash it every time I see myself in it." Peter nodded slowly. "I have those phantom touches haunting me every time I try to have sex with you or when I close my eyes. Peter, they both knew me personally and they tortured me. I've been wondering all too often lately: what would someone I _don't_ know do to me?"

He hushed Neal, pulling the younger man closer. Neal shut his laptop and set it beside him, leaning against Peter. "Nobody will ever hurt you that way again. The next time anyone tries, I will shoot them repeatedly—even after they're dead." Neal tensed a bit, but Peter kissed his hair and he seemed to relax a bit. "Rapists don't deserve to live, Neal, and I'd make damn sure they didn't live if I could. Those two are in prison and I'm considering pushing for more than just a life sentence after what they did to you—especially Craig. What he did… That was beyond just raping you. Neal, he could have killed you."

"That's what your nightmares are about," Neal said quietly. Peter nodded, stroking Neal's arm. "I don't feel the same way I used to." His eyes widened and he quickly amended with, "Physically—not about you. I still feel the same way about you. I—"

"I know, hon. Don't worry. Just keep talking."

Neal sighed, closing his eyes. "I remember how I felt after every time Adler used me and it's almost nothing in comparison to how I felt after Craig finished with me. Adler didn't want to abuse my body and ruin my appearance. He bruised me from time to time, but he wanted a pretty face with a nice—" He shook his head. "Craig didn't care about that. He did everything he could to hurt me. It was the worst feeling in the world, Peter. He hurt me more than Adler did when he took me. At least Adler had the moderate courtesy of helping me up and giving me my clothes when he was done with me. Craig made me lay there…naked and bound…for however long I was there."

Peter kissed Neal's hair again. "Neither of them had the right to do those things to you. Their actions can never be justified and I hope you know that it wasn't your fault either time. I wasn't there when Adler hurt you, but I've been here for you since Craig. I…can't stand the sight of you falling apart, Neal. It's slowly killing me to watch you slip back into those moments when you were vulnerable and they didn't give a damn about your well-being." Neal shifted closer to Peter. "I love you. I'm afraid of you leaving me, Neal, because you think I can't deal with you anymore. I don't want to lose you."

"You're not gonna lose me," he whispered. "I have my days where suicidal thoughts are the only things going through my mind, but it'd be selfish of me to do that to you. Peter, you're my world—or at least half of it since Nicky is a huge part of it, too." Peter chuckled, resting his cheek atop Neal's head. "I couldn't do that to you or our son. I can't imagine leaving him—abandoning him almost the same way my father abandoned me."

"You know I'm proud of you, don't you?" Neal made a sound and Peter understood that as a 'no.' "Hon, I'm proud of you every time you open your eyes in the morning. You don't have to try so hard to get that out of me. I notice the little things you do and they're the most important." Peter lifted his cheek off of Neal's head when Neal tilted his head to look up at him. "In all honesty, you don't need me to be proud of you, sweetheart. You need to be proud of yourself. Look at yourself and take pride in the man you are right now. You're the only person in control of your life. You're free to do whatever you'd like whenever you'd like without having to worry."

Neal gave him a small smile. "I'd probably still worry regardless, but I don't know what I'd do without you. You…make my life worth living. I never thought I'd have a long-lasting relationship after Keller, but you came into my life and made me fall head over heels for you."

Peter laughed lightly. "This—us—will be the last relationship you'll ever have," he said softly. "I'm going to make damn sure you know you're loved, that I love you with all of my heart, and that you're happy. I want to be the one to take care of you, be the shoulder you cry on, the one you run to when you don't know what to do, and the only man you give your love to." Neal kissed him, nodding with his eyes closed. "This isn't my way of saying you can't get out of our relationship if you're unhappy. I'm just telling you that I want to make this the relationship that matters, that changed your life for the better."

The younger man opened his eyes. "You're an even bigger idiot than I am if you think I'm going to end this." Peter chuckled, smiling at Neal. "You piss me off sometimes, but I also know I piss you off, too. That's how relationships are though and we work well together. You haven't given up on me yet and I have all the faith in the world in you." He paused for a moment. "Please, promise me you won't go through my things without asking for my permission first next time."

Peter nodded. "I promise." He felt extremely guilty. Those had been Neal's very personal and very private thoughts and Peter invaded them both. He did know he had no right reading it. Lover or not, it was meant to stay private. "I'm really sorry for taking it in the first place." He'd have to talk to Diana about this, too. He didn't want her looking at Neal's journal again either. That's what started this whole problem in the first place. He always said he wanted to help Neal, then he ruins the trust factor between them by going into territory he wasn't welcome in. "I love you, hon. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, I'll love you tomorrow." He kissed Neal gently. "I'll love you always."

Neal smiled, a real and heartfelt smile. "I'll always love you, Peter Burke. I'll take that love for you to my grave and hold onto it tightly."

Peter pecked his lips. "No more talk about graves and stuff like that, okay? We have a long life ahead of us still, so let's enjoy it."

"Sounds like a plan."

Neal turned the nightstand light off, set his laptop down on the floor, gently pushed Peter down onto his back and then curled into Peter's side, resting his head on Peter's shoulder, his hand on Peter's abdomen. "Good night, Neal."

He kissed Peter's chest, whispering, "Good night, Peter."

•◊•

The following week, Peter dropped Neal off at his group therapy early. He'd had his reservations about coming back, but he'd also had plenty of time to talk through everything with Peter and Peter wanted him to try it a few more times to see if he could relate to someone or a few people. He thought it might be good for Neal to talk to somebody who understood what happened because they'd experienced it.

When he walked in, he glanced around at the circle of chairs. He took his jacket off and hung it up before tentatively crossing the room to take the empty seat beside Rebecca. She was surprised to see him, but she smiled and he returned the smile. "Hey," she said quietly.

"Hello."

"Feeling better about being here?"

He shrugged then nodded. "Peter and I talked a lot about this over the past week. He suggested that I talk to you since we're here for the same reason." She grinned at him, eager to talk to him as he noticed. "I'm still getting used to talking to people outside of my immediate family, so I'd like to apologize for how I acted last week."

She waved her hand dismissively, giggling. He cocked an eyebrow at her and then she asked, "Are you and Peter married?"

He noticed her eyeing his left hand. "No. We've talked about it though." His heart fluttered in his chest. Talking about Peter and marriage always made him feel this way. "He promised me we'll be married as soon as New York allows it. It's great, especially because he's planning on adopting my son as his own." She startled at that, looking stunned. "Yeah, my son wasn't planned, but Peter's loved him like his own son since we got together."

She schooled her expression and giggled like a schoolgirl. "You're lucky then. My friends with kids haven't had a boyfriend who accepts the baggage they carry." She touched his leg gently, ghosting her fingers over his pants while staring into his eyes.

He wasn't bothered by it at first, but then he realized what he'd done. He gently pried her hand off of him and set it back on her lap. "I'm completely gay," he told her, which brought on a frown. "My son was born out of a drunken one night stand. It was very accidental, but he's here now and I love him to death." She seemed to ease up a bit when he talked about loving Nicky. "I, uh, know I gave off the wrong impression when I mentioned him, but I don't want…women."

She deflected. "How old is he?"

"He turned ten in February. Want to see a picture of him?" She nodded eagerly and he fished his phone out of his suit jacket's inner pocket. He unlocked it and showed her a picture of Peter and Nicky. Nicky's arms were around Peter's neck and they were both smiling happily. "That's my boy. His name's Nicky." He remembered Peter talking him into sanctioning a trip to the Allegheny National Forest in Pennsylvania, which hadn't been very hard considering he'd already gotten Nicky fired up about it. He thought getting out into nature would do them all some good. As it turns out, it did. They had quite the scare when Nicky tripped and almost fell into the water—where he could have fallen face first into a bunch of rocks. After that, he loved how Peter and Nicky just ran off.

Everything was a game of tag for Nicky and Peter played along with him while Neal stood in the background with his phone, recording the whole thing. He found his laugh annoying when he played the video back with Peter later, but Peter told him that it was the first time in a while that he'd seen Neal truly happy and able to laugh freely. "Must be some good memories there."

He nodded. "It was a lot of fun. We haven't done much as a family and Nicky begged us to take him back over the summer. Peter's idea was great."

"He's so adorable," she said sweetly. He smiled, agreeing with her. He found his son to be extremely adorable, especially when he was pouting or sleeping. Peter carried Nicky back to the car in Pennsylvania after the kid wore himself out from all that running. Nicky looked so safe in Peter's arms, safe and comfortable. That was the kind of relationship Neal had been looking for. He wanted someone Nicky could love and trust as much as Nicky loves and trusts him. They glanced up when Sara came in, a few of the other group members trailing after her. "Sara started this group three years ago," Rebecca told him. "Her sister was raped and was impregnated by the man who did it." Neal's throat constricted when he heard that. He knew already that the end of the story wasn't good. "She ended up committing suicide before she had the baby." She gave Neal a sad smile. "Sara and I have been friends since she found me in an alleyway."

"Wow," Neal said, stunned. He didn't know what else to say. As he watched Sara, he realized that he understood why Peter wanted him to do this.

Sara looked sad, like something inside of her was missing or broken. He imagined Peter looking much the same because of him and it made him really consider how he'd been treating Peter lately. He was getting better, but he still snapped at and said cruel things to Peter, which were always unwarranted. "Good evening, all. I'm glad to see some returning faces and some new faces." She smiled a smile that Neal easily saw through. "We've lost a few members since our last meeting, regretfully." She took her designated seat and just kept smiling. It was really starting to depress Neal because he knew how fake it was and he understood the reasons behind it. "All right, everyone. Who'd like to start us off?"

A blonde woman sitting on the other side of the circle raised her hand. Sara gestured for her to start and the woman sighed heavily. "I'm Tara. This is my first time being here," she began, sounding nervous and sad. "I'm here because my boyfriend killed himself this past weekend." She smiled sadly and avoided eye contact. "He was having emotional problems that made him close up. He wouldn't talk to me about anything and now he's…gone." Neal's heart clenched when she started crying. "I blame _myself._"

Everyone was quiet, uncertain. Neal took that time to speak up. "It wasn't your fault," he said reassuringly. She rubbed her eyes and started to calm down, occasionally sucking in gasps of air. "I've been acting like that around my boyfriend, which is part of why I'm here, too. The problem is that I haven't felt comfortable in my own skin for a long time and my boyfriend blames himself for my most recent…issue." He cleared his throat, his heart pounding in his chest as everyone's eyes were on him. "I've been suicidal and tried to suffocate myself one night. If he hadn't come home, I might be dead right now. But, needless to say, I'd never blame him or want him to blame himself if I'd been successful."

Tara nodded, giving him a grateful smile. "Robby was physically assaulted growing up. He never hit me, but he was afraid he would someday. He kept telling me he had the urge to and he didn't understand why." She sniffled, rubbing her eyes again. "What happened to you to make you feel that way?"

He lowered his gaze to the floor. Rebecca took his hand to comfort him and he took a little bit of strength in the gesture. "I'm a rape victim." He looked up at Tara and saw sympathy in her eyes. "My step-father raped me when I was thirteen and I ran away from home on my sixteenth birthday." He paused for a moment, waiting for the look of repulsion that never came. "One of his friends kidnapped me, Peter, and a friend of ours several months ago. He used my relationship with Peter against me, so I…consented, I guess."

"You feel like you've been ripped apart from the inside out." Neal's attention flickered to the new voice, a black-haired young man. "I'm Cameron—also a victim of rape," he admitted. "I was twenty-one when it happened and heavily intoxicated." He observed Neal, which made him feel uncomfortable. "You look like you went through two really rough experiences."

Curious and disturbed, he asked, "How can you tell?"

He pointed at his own throat, showing Neal his scars. Neal's hand immediately flew up to his own neck and he felt a few scars left as the remnants of Craig's attempts to strangle him with rope. The scars weren't all that noticeable, or at least he didn't think they were. Peter never paid attention to them. "You have a few yourself." He nodded at Neal's body. "I don't doubt you've got a lot more than I do." Neal blinked, his face heating up under the scrutiny. He didn't think anyone would talk about _him_ after he'd tried to reassure Tara that she wasn't at fault for her boyfriend's death. "Your boyfriend must really understand your pain because he's still with you. Mine left me before I was even released from the hospital."

Neal frowned, lowering his gaze. "I'm sorry."

Cameron shrugged. "I can sympathize with you because I know how it feels. I hope you know how lucky you are to have him."

Neal was slightly offended at first, but ended up nodding. "I do know I'm lucky. I—before Peter—was a single parent. None of my relationships lasted. They didn't want me and my son—just my body. Peter gave me a chance and really didn't care about sex and he loves my son." He sighed, running his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "Being with him has definitely changed my life. I know I'm damn lucky that he's still here with me. I know he's the one I'll be with for the rest of my life, too. He's stayed through it all and I don't even know why sometimes." He smiled faintly. "He's brought marriage up a few times and I know I'm lucky because he loves me enough to see me as a person—as myself—and not just a victim."

Cameron nodded, his green eyes locked with Neal's. Neal felt like the other man was trying to dive into his soul and it made him cringe a little. Tara quietly asked, "What's your name by the way?"

"I'm Neal."

She smiled. "Neal, do you mind if I ask you why you don't blame your boyfriend for the things that happened to you?"

He shook his head. "I don't blame him because there was nothing he could have done to prevent it from happening. He blames himself, feeling like he should have been able to stop it the second time, but there was honestly nothing he could have done and I know that." He remembered Peter sitting beside him one night, assuming Neal was asleep, and whispering how sorry he was that he hadn't saved him while stroking Neal's hair. "I did it to protect him. If I hadn't, it would have been him." He paused for a moment, looking at Tara. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again for him."

Tara asked him question after question until she realized they'd taken up at least half of the time period and said she'd talk to Neal later if he wanted to. The remainder of the session was spent talking about the problems of the other group members. They all offered a bit of support for each other and Neal liked how the atmosphere felt kind of comfortable.

When the hour was up, he found himself standing in the corner of the room with Tara and Rebecca. "Thank you, Neal," Tara said quietly. "I really appreciate everything you said. You really made me feel better."

He smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Peter blames himself for a lot of my problems and it bothers me because I know he's not responsible. He needs me to tell him that sometimes and I felt like maybe you needed someone to tell you, too."

She stepped closer to him and hugged him. "I did. My parents haven't been very supportive of our relationship, so we were pretty much on our own. Without him, I'm alone."

Neal rubbed her back soothingly. "Well, now you've got friends."

She backed up, smiling beautifully at him. She wasn't trying to flirt with him. She just really liked him and was grateful to have a sweet friend. Rebecca smiled at her, too. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call," Rebecca told her, handing her a paper with her phone number. She'd slipped one to Neal during the session and he'd given her his number, too.

Neal silently asked for her phone and she gave it to him. He put his number into it and handed it back to her. When she nodded towards his phone, he unlocked it and gave it to her for her to do the same. "Thank you both," Tara said appreciatively. "I will definitely call you two if I need anything. You can both do the same, okay?" Rebecca and Neal nodded, chuckling. "Do you think we could hang out together sometime?" Neal shrugged, saying he didn't mind and Rebecca said the same. "You could bring your son and Peter," she suggested, grinning. "If that was them on your background picture, they're both really cute."

"That was them," he said, laughing lightly. Neal glanced around Tara's shoulder and waved when he saw Peter. Peter smiled at him and crossed the large room to join them. When he was close enough, Neal kissed him briefly. "This is Peter," he said to Tara, smiling. He looked up at Peter and said, "I met Tara tonight. She's a new member."

Peter and Tara exchanged pleasantries and then he did the same with Rebecca, glad to see that Neal hadn't made just one friend. "Neal's really sweet," Tara said. Peter chuckled, kissing Neal's temple, mumbling that he loved Neal for that reason. "He made me feel really good, too. A lot of the things he said made a lot of sense and I suppose I have you to thank for that."

Peter's brows furrowed. "Me?"

He looked down at Neal as Neal ducked his head. "I talked about you," he said quietly. Peter kissed his hair, sliding his arm around Neal's waist. "Her boyfriend killed himself because of some problems he was having." Understanding dawned on Peter then. He knew exactly what Neal said in response to that without even having to be there to hear it.

"Neal's pretty insightful when he wants to be," Peter said softly.

They all talked a little longer before Sara announced that she was going to close up. They all went outside and started shivering. The snowstorm really picked up since Peter dropped Neal off. Rebecca and Tara both hugged Neal, saying good night to him and Peter, before heading off for their own cars. As soon as Neal and Peter were in their car, Neal turned the heat on. Peter was letting him drive. "God damn is it cold out there," he muttered. Peter chuckled. "Shut up, Mister Fireball."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm cold, too, dork."

Neal smiled at him. "Thank you for suggesting this, babe," he whispered. "It really does help. I do want you to know that I'm not going to hide things from you though. I'll talk to you about anything I talk about here." Peter decided that if Neal wanted to keep things hidden from him, he'd deserve it. Neal trusted him—still does somehow—and he went right over his head. He'd been working on getting more proof of Fowler's involvement lately and he'd gotten used to just taking files when he wanted. Neal's journal wasn't a file.

Peter nodded. "I know, sweetheart. Now… Let's get home so we can cuddle under the blankets." Neal started up the car and waited as Rebecca and Tara drove across the lot behind him. He was pretty good at backing up and probably could have pulled out in between them if there wasn't snow and ice on the ground. Once he was clear, he backed out.

But he got stuck in a rut. "God," he groaned, putting the car into reverse and drive alternatively to rock the car. "You suck at picking a good parking spot, Peter. I swear to God you always do this."

Peter chuckled. "It was easy to get into."

"Obviously. If I blow out a tire, you're walking your ass to Wal-Mart."

Peter smiled at him. "I'd do that for you."

"Aha," Neal said once he blasted through the rut. "Tada." Peter laughed. Neal got out of the parking lot without another issue and drove home as safely as he could manage.


	40. Chapter 40

Christmas came and went very peacefully. Neal and Peter exchanged gifts that nearly cost the same amount this year and they both bought Nicky's presents. Peter suggested a lot of great toys for Nicky that Neal hadn't considered and they'd thrilled the little boy to no end. They were nearing New Year's Day now and Peter was getting extremely nervous. He had so much in store for their vacation, but Neal wasn't much of an open book. He was happier, yes, but still very difficult to read, which frustrated Peter.

Peter looked down at Neal, the younger man's head resting on his lap, hands on Peter's knee, his own legs bent on the couch. He draped his arm over Neal, listening to his soft snores. Nicky was in his room with Michael and they were playing with their gifts together. Peter and Neal turned on a Christmas movie to watch and Neal, exhausted from so many things, fell asleep on Peter.

Neal was wearing the green sweater Peter got him for Christmas. It had a Christmas tree in the center of it that was decorated. Neal liked it and immediately started wearing it with his sweatpants. Peter knew that anything Neal could match up with his sweatpants was a good deal. "Peter?" he mumbled.

"Yes, hon?"

"Can we lay down in bed?"

Peter smiled at him. "Not so comfortable on the couch?" he teased. Neal groaned and pushed himself up, nearly flipping over onto the floor in the process. The only thing that saved him was the fact that Peter grabbed him just in time. "I didn't get to ask earlier since my parents called, but…how did the call with your mom go?"

Neal sighed, rubbing his eyes. "As shitty as I expected. She has presents for Nick, but she doesn't want me to come get them and she doesn't want to drop them off here, so I don't know what she wants to do about them." Peter stroked Neal's arm slowly, listening to Neal. "She wants me to see my dad, too. I told her I wasn't interested right now and she said she's setting something up."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, hon."

The younger man stretched his arms out before standing up, Peter standing with him. They both went over to the bed and plopped down onto it. "I'm not going to see him. I'd rather stay home and sleep with you."

"Then you can do that." Peter chuckled, stroking Neal's hair as Neal started to drift off again.

•◊•

On New Year's Eve, everyone gathered at Elizabeth and Diana's place. Peter and Neal sat on the couch together, drinking out of the same beer bottle much to Mozzie's absolute horror. Nicky was in the kitchen with Elizabeth, watching her make snacks for later on. Michael sat in the recliner across from Mozzie and they were both playing chess. Well, Michael was attempting to. He wasn't very good at it. In fact, Neal laughed at him at one point before telling him which moves to make. Peter had to shut him up before Mozzie smacked him upside the head for helping Michael cheat.

After Mike lost, Mozzie challenged Neal, which he accepted almost immediately. They hadn't played chess together in a long time. Michael watched them intently and Peter took that time to head into the kitchen after kissing Neal's hair, promising he'd be right back. "There's one of our men of the day!" El stage whispered, grinning at him cheekily as he came into the kitchen.

"Shh! You'll ruin it if he overhears you," Peter hissed.

She giggled and went over to him, resting her hands on his chest. "Did you bring it with you?" He nodded. "Can I see it, hon?"

Nicky came over and smiled up at Peter. He was in on the whole thing and helped Peter set some things up. Peter glanced into the living room before reaching into his pocket to pull out a tiny box. He opened it up and showed Elizabeth and Nicky. Both of them had to try really hard not to squeal in excitement. "Poppa, is daddy's last name going to change?"

"I think so."

"Will mine change?"

Peter smiled. "Yeah. If daddy changes his last name, yours will change, too."

Nicky started jumping up and down eagerly. Peter laughed, messing with Nicky's hair. "I'm going to be Nicky Burke!"

"Shh!"

Peter exasperatedly rolled his eyes and Elizabeth couldn't help giggling again. She took the box from Peter and looked at the engagement ring up close. "Oh, hon. He's going to love this."

Peter sighed. "Do you think he'll say yes?"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. "Of course he will. Now, what time are you proposing?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, holding his hand out for the box. "As soon as the ball drops."

Elizabeth quickly returned the box to Peter and he put it back into his pocket just as Neal came into the kitchen, laughing with Mozzie. "I beat him!" Neal declared upon entering, grinning at Peter. Peter stepped forward, kissing Neal as his congratulatory prize. When they parted, Neal's eyes seemed to sparkle.

"God, Neal. How drunk are you?"

"Babe, I drank less than you. I'm not drunk," he said, chuckling. "I'm in a really good mood."

Peter kissed him again. "I'm glad to hear that—more than you realize." Peter noticed that Neal's mood dramatically changed the closer he got with Rebecca and Tara. They were always asking Neal to go out with them and he'd had to turn them down a few times, but he eventually got dragged out to the mall with them, much to their absolute delight. They took him shopping, out to lunch, and arranged for a date night for him and Peter. It was all really nice. Mozzie and Neal were still best friends, but Mozzie tended to get himself into illegal activities, something Neal didn't want to take part in, so Neal didn't go out much with friends before. El and Diana were _El and Diana._ They couldn't spend time with just one of them anymore.

As the night continued on, Nicky got Neal to play hide-and-seek with him, which then turned into a full-fledged game with the entire house. Neal and Peter hid together, chuckling in the basement behind a bunch of boxes. They figured they'd get caught pretty quickly, but they really wanted some time alone. Peter held Neal's face in his hands, kissing the younger man slowly, tilting their heads to change the angle from time to time. He sucked on Neal's tongue, loving how Neal moaned into his mouth.

At some point, Neal ended up on his back, his hands caressing Peter's cheeks as Peter continued to kiss him. Peter's right hand slid under Neal's sweater and traced the hard planes of his abdomen, slowly moving up his body. Neal fumbled with Peter's belt, trying to get it off. Peter was too distracted to stop him, but he realized Neal might try to get him to make love with him. They'd talked about trying again and Peter was considering trying tonight, after they got home.

The door to the basement opened and Peter froze, quieting Neal. He separated their mouths and they had to control their quick breathing. "This is total BS!" Mozzie cried out. Neal tried not to laugh. Mozzie was having a hard time finding people, but Neal didn't think he was looking all that hard to begin with. Nicky usually ended up hiding out in the open as Neal noticed. "Oh, are you guys fucking kidding me?" Neal and Peter both laughed quietly. "If you're fucking, just tell me and I'll pretend I never saw you guys."

Neal sat up, his hair a mess. "We weren't doing anything, Mister Prude." Peter helped Neal up and then pulled Neal's sweater down while Neal fixed Peter's belt.

Mozzie sighed. "I swear. You two get left alone for ten minutes and you're already attacking each other."

"Can't help it," Neal said. "Peter's so—"

"I have other people I have yet to find," Mozzie interjected. "The guest room is upstairs. I'm sure that'd be more comfortable than the basement's cement floor… Morons."

Neal chuckled. Peter wondered why Neal was all right with all the hints of sex lately. He didn't want to ruin the mood in the bedroom, so he hadn't asked why Neal felt up to pursuing small acts that were still sex-related. They'd been messing around a little in bed again, but it wasn't anything major. He'd give Neal a handjob or Neal would give him one. Occasionally, they'd throw a blowjob in, but they hadn't made love in a while.

Mozzie darted up the stairs, leaving the two men alone. "Can I ask you something, hon?"

"Sure, babe."

Peter stroked Neal's hair, brushing it out of his face. "What's got you so happy today?"

Neal pretended to think about it, muttering, "Hm. It might be the fact that you woke me up by peppering kisses all over my face and chest." He grinned at Peter, resting his hands on Peter's chest. "It was nice to wake up like that, especially since last night was kind of bad."

Peter nodded. "Makes sense." He'd have to keep that wakeup call in mind from now on if it made Neal this happy. "At least, you know, your mother had the decency to leave after giving Nick's presents to you."

"After making a comment about me being a dick, yeah." He shrugged. "She doesn't bug me anymore. I've got much more important people in my life to think about."

Everyone ended up forfeiting the game so Nicky could win, which delighted the boy because he thought he'd won fair and square. They all gathered in the living room, sitting in front of the television to watch the broadcast from Times Square. El and Diana sat on the floor with Nicky, holding hands. Mike and Mozzie sat in the recliners and Peter held Neal on his lap on the couch.

He was getting anxious to the point where he thought the box holding the ring was burning a hole in his pants pocket. As soon as the countdown got closer, Peter shifted Neal and then pulled him up into a standing position away from the couch where he'd have more room. Neal smiled up at him before returning his gaze to the television. Peter fished the box out of his pocket, holding Neal's hand with his free hand. As soon as the ball dropped, Peter gently tugged on Neal's hand to get his attention and dropped down to one knee. He still held Neal's hand, watching the surprise cross his lover's face.

"Neal George Caffrey," he began, squeezing Neal's fingers gently. "I've loved you since the moment I met you. I'm terrible at expressing my feelings, but I must have done something right to make you feel the same way—and keep you interested." He loved the way Neal's eyes started watering. "You're the first man I've ever fallen in love with and I know you're the last. I love your smiles, your eyes, and your laugh. I love the way you sing and dance. I love the way you look at me when we're together. After everything you've been through, you still hold my heart just as you did when we first got together." Elizabeth was covering her mouth, trying to keep her excitement under control. "I can't imagine a day without waking up beside you, going to bed with you, and just being _with_ you. I've given you all that I have to offer of my heart, so I hope it's enough." He let go of Neal's hand, briefly looking away from Neal's face to open the box. "Neal, will you marry me?" he whispered, watching Neal's face.

Neal tried so hard to stay composed, but gave up and started crying. He nodded, pulling Peter up to hug him. "Yes," he whispered as he held Peter against him. "A million times yes."

The younger man stepped back a few moments later, wiping his face off. Peter just smiled at him before taking his left hand. He slipped the engagement ring onto Neal's finger, then kissed Neal. They held each other tightly, embracing the moment to its fullest potential. Tears were still sliding down Neal's face, but no one seemed to care. After all, El and Mozzie were crying, too. Diana held El and Nicky hugged Mozzie. Michael had been recording the proposal on his phone, so he was just smiling now, glad to have captured his brother's happiest moment.

Neal's breathing was erratic after their lips parted. He buried his face in the crook of Peter's neck, wishing this moment would last forever. "I love you," Peter whispered in his ear.

"I love you so much," Neal mumbled, his voice thick with his crying. He lifted his left hand behind Peter and stared at the ring. "This is beautiful—and perfect."

Peter smiled. "It's us," he whispered. "Our birthstones."

Neal backed up to look up at Peter. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Um…eight months, give or take." Neal looked surprised. "I kept waiting for a good time is all. Things kept happening and it never felt like the right moment. I figured today was perfect because you've been so happy."

He chuckled. "Well, you played that out perfectly." He pulled back and smiled at Peter, then his brows furrowed. "Uh, am I supposed to have a ring for you, too?" he asked, his face heating up all of a sudden.

Peter laughed, kissing Neal's forehead. "Don't worry about it. The important thing is that the ring looks fantastic on your hand."

El finally released her excitement and squealed, darting over to Neal. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, telling him she was really glad he said yes. He chuckled, circling his arms around her waist, his eyes locked onto Peter's. "You boys are just too cute," she whispered against Neal's neck.

All the hype started dying down after everyone got their fill of hugs. Neal called Rebecca and Tara to tell them and they were both extremely excited, squealing in his ear—a sound worse than El's squeal up close. He called Ellen next, knowing she'd be thrilled for him. "Hey, mom. It's Neal."

She laughed lightly into the phone. "_Hello, sweetheart. How have you been?_"

"Better. How about you?"

"_I've been doing pretty well. Been thinking about my boy for a while though. We never talk much anymore, sweetie._" He smiled, glad that Ellen had moved to New York rather than staying in their WitSec location. "_I miss you, dear._"

"I miss you, too."

He licked his lips, his heart pounding with the pent up need to tell Ellen. "_So, since it's pretty late, I'm thinking you had a reason to call?_"

He chuckled, nodding to himself, glancing down at his left hand with a broad smile. "Yeah, I do. Peter proposed."

He heard her gasp, followed by, "_Oh, sweetie! That's wonderful!_"

Peter saw the grin on Neal's face as he talked to Ellen on the phone and it made him feel good. He'd messed up a lot over the last few weeks, but he's been trying to work things out with Neal. The proposal went over a lot better than he'd foreseen. He hadn't expected Neal to jump on the phone and tell the others about the proposal, but it was nice nonetheless to see that he was happy. "Thank you, Peter, for making my best friend and little brother happy," Mozzie said quietly in the living room. Nicky was laying on him in the recliner.

"He deserves to be happy," Peter said, watching Neal as he talked nonstop. Peter couldn't hear what he was saying, but the smile never faltered and Neal's eyes looked brighter. "Seeing him like this makes me wish I'd done it earlier, but this was obviously the perfect time to do it."

Mozzie nodded, hugging Nicky against his chest. "I'd say so. I can't remember him _ever_ looking _that_ happy before." He stroked Nicky's hair. "Well, except the day this little one was born." Nicky grinned up at his Uncle Mozzie. "He's got everything he wants and needs in his life now. I trust you with him, Peter." Peter nodded as Mozzie gave him a leveled, menacing stare. "I trust you with him, so you'd better take care of him and keep him happy. I don't want to see him hurt again."

Peter glanced at Neal again. "I won't hurt him. I've made mistakes lately, but… I'm lucky to have his forgiveness." He turned his attention to Mozzie again. "Has he talked to you about any of that?"

"Yeah. I knew about the journal before you did. After all, I did suggest it as a form of expressing himself without having to share. He's not comfortable talking to me about anything, which is fine." He gave Peter a pointed look. "He's fine now though. I know he's still writing in it, which is nice."

"I promised him I wouldn't look at it again. Even when he's writing while we're in bed together, I make damn sure I keep my eyes away from it." Mozzie nodded, appreciating that Peter was giving Neal that sense of privacy again. "He knows I'm here if he needs me."

Mozzie and Neal had been talking a little more about things lately and he noticed that Neal had been painting more and more often than before. Peter commented on how great they looked, but didn't ask Neal to explain them if he wasn't willing to volunteer the story behind them. They'd decided a little space between them might help their relationship and it seemed to be working. Neal had his group therapy and that was going well for him since he was able to relate to others in the group, but he also had Peter's love and support unconditionally.

Neal came back into the living room, beaming at Peter. "I called Ellen and the girls. They're all thrilled." Peter smiled up at him, holding his arms out for the younger man. Neal sat on Peter's lap, resting his hands on Peter's arms after they wrapped around his torso.

Until about two-thirty in the morning, everyone stayed up to eat snacks Elizabeth provided and talked about their lives in general. El wanted to keep talking about Peter and Neal's wedding, telling them that she'd be more than happy to cater for them. Neal was perfectly fine with that and Peter couldn't disagree. They had to leave shortly after that discussion so Neal could put Nicky to bed.

Neal pecked Elizabeth and Diana's cheeks, hugging them both and thanking them for having them over. Peter hugged both women and went to get the car warmed up while Neal, Mike, and Moz got everything ready to go. Nicky was rubbing his eyes tiredly, holding Neal's left hand while Neal rushed around to pack up all of their excess drinks and some snacks Elizabeth wanted them to take home. "Dad, I'm tired."

He looked down at his son and smiled affectionately. "I know, baby. Poppa's going to take us all home, okay?" Nicky nodded. Mozzie came back with a few snacks too many, but Elizabeth only shook her head and walked them out, kissing both men's cheeks and Nicky's forehead. Neal had to buckle Nicky into his seat because the poor kid was getting so sleepy. He ended up climbing into the back with him and Mozzie got the shotgun seat, Michael sitting on Neal's left, thus squishing his brother between himself and Nicky. "Hey, stay awake for a few more minutes, baby," Neal whispered. "We'll be home soon and then you can sleep in your bed. We won't wake you up early tomorrow, so you can sleep in. Does that sound good?" Nicky nodded tiredly.

Peter listened to Neal as he kept talking to Nicky, trying to keep his son awake. He loved how sweet Neal was, even though he was just as tired.

As soon as they were home, Nicky started to get even sleepier. Neal ended up carrying him into the house and up the stairs. It was becoming a problem as Nicky grew, so there would come a day when he wouldn't be able to do that anymore and he wasn't looking forward to it. He loved carrying his son and it didn't matter how old Nicky was. Peter opened the doors for him until he was able to lay Nicky down on his bed comfortably. Mozzie and Michael brought everything into the kitchen and started putting things away before heading back downstairs to the rooms that had been made up for them—courtesy of June. Mozzie would have preferred Neal's couch, but he wasn't interested in being in the same room as Neal and Peter after getting engaged, figuring they'd be _engaged_ in something he didn't necessarily want to witness.

Neal tucked Nicky in, making sure the blanket was covering him as much as possible. He stood beside his son's bed for a few minutes until Peter came to stand in the doorway. He watched Neal, smiling slightly to himself as his lover leaned over to kiss Nicky's forehead. When Neal straightened up, he just stared down at his son. Peter could see that something was bothering Neal, but he wouldn't press the issue unless Neal brought it up first. He could be concerned, but he was trying not to smother his lover anymore.

Neal sighed heavily and turned, startling a bit when he saw Peter. Peter backed out into the living area and Neal followed him, closing the door just enough for it to still be open for Nicky. "Everything all right?"

"Just looking at how fast life is passing me by," he whispered. "My baby's going to be eleven next month. Like holy shit. And now I'm engaged." He smiled at that. "Before I know it, we'll be official husbands and Nicky will officially become as much your son as he is mine."

He pressed himself against Peter's chest and the older man wrapped his arms around him. "We still have a lot of time together," he whispered, kissing Neal's hair. Neal nodded against Peter. He knew they had plenty of time, but he still felt like things were moving really fast—not that he really minded. He just wanted things to stretch out rather than pass in the blink of an eye. Hell, he's known Peter for two years now and they've almost been together for two years. "You okay?" Peter asked after a long silence between them.

Neal sighed. "Yeah. Kind of tired though. Can we go to bed?"

Peter ran his fingers through Neal's hair. "Of course." Neal pulled away slowly, looking up at Peter. He gave the older man a small smile before taking his hand and leading him to the bed. He didn't feel like undressing or allowing Peter to undress himself. He just wanted to cuddle and fall asleep in Peter's arms. Peter originally planned on asking Neal if he felt like trying sex again, but he really didn't care if they made love or not tonight. Neal was tired, so perhaps another night. He'd gotten Neal to say yes to him and that was enough to keep him happy for a while. He could look at Neal's hand and see the gleaming proof that Neal wanted to be with him. It was _more_ than enough to satisfy Peter.

Neal crawled across the bed, dragging Peter with him. When he laid down, Peter pressed his chest against Neal's back, draping his right arm over Neal's waist. Neal gripped his hand, stroking his knuckles. "Thank you for today, Peter," he murmured.

Peter kissed Neal's shoulder, smiling. "It's a new year," he said quietly. "I figured we'd start it with a bang."

"Sex pun?" he whispered, chuckling.

Peter laughed, squeezing Neal against him gently. "Go to sleep, dork."

Peter saw Neal turn his head back a bit in the very dim lighting, so he leaned forward to kiss Neal slowly, lovingly. When they parted, Peter loved how Neal's eyes were still closed. "I promise sex tomorrow," Neal whispered, opening his eyes. "I'm really tired right now. Otherwise, I'd offer, but I don't think it'd be very romantic for me to just lay there and fall asleep after your proposal."

Again, Peter laughed. "I love you, Neal." He kissed Neal's shoulder again. "We'll see how tomorrow goes. Just sleep for now, okay?"

Neal nodded, shifting himself so that his back was as close to Peter's chest as humanly possible. Peter buried his face in Neal's hair, breathing in the sweet, vanilla scent. "Love you, hubby," Neal whispered. Peter smiled, kissing Neal's ear.

"Sweet dreams," Peter said before Neal drifted off. For once, Neal _did_ have a sweet dream.


	41. Chapter 41

"It's been a long time since we've done anything just the two of us, mon frère."

Neal glanced over at his best friend, amused. "Well, you getting into legal problems and my having a relationship tends to get in the way sometimes." Mozzie nodded, swirling the wine in his glass for a moment. "Besides, it's Saturday, I sent Peter on a few errands, Mike's out with Mel, and I dropped Nicky off at Trent's earlier. I figured we should have some time together."

Mozzie sipped at his glass. "Damn right we should," he muttered. "So, have you two decided on who's getting the bachelor and bachelorette party?"

Neal laughed. "We've been engaged for two _weeks._ Moz, we haven't done much more than discuss how long it might be until we're able to get married—legally—and slowly make our way back into having an actual sex life."

Mozzie gave Neal his 'TMI' face and continued on. "You're the feminine portion of the relationship, so I suppose you'll be spending some time with your lady friends."

He gave his friend a pointed glare. "Just because I've made more friends who are women doesn't mean I'm getting a bachelorette party." He sipped at his own wine glass, holding it delicately in his hand. "I suppose you're right though, which means Peter gets to choose his best man and I've got dibs on the maid of honor, which is undoubtedly going to be Elizabeth."

Mozzie grinned. "El will certainly get a kick out of that." Neal smiled. "I know this will more than likely be a touchy subject, but…usually the father walks the 'bride' down the aisle. Who would hand you off to Peter?"

Neal paused for a moment. He'd given that some consideration lately, but hadn't done much else. "Well, um, I thought about asking Jon. He was so thrilled when we skyped him and Hannah to give them the news." He chuckled, looking down for a moment. "I swear he was crying when he was congratulating us. I didn't tell Peter this, but Jon sent me several emails after that. He's been telling me how proud he is of Peter for choosing me as his husband and he's proud of me for making Peter happy."

"Well, Jon seems to like you enough," he teased. "I'm sure he'd be more than willing to accept if you asked him—and I can't see why Peter would object if you asked him, too." He reached across the table and grabbed Neal's hand, smiling. "I think you'll give Jon a heart attack. You'd floor him by asking because that's a highly respected position in your case."

Mozzie squeezed Neal's hand. "I'll talk to Peter as soon as he gets home. I'd really like it if Jon played that role. He's like a dad to me anyway. He loves it when I call him dad." Neal smiled, looking out across the balcony to watch the snow fall outside. "We've already decided Nick will be the ring bearer. That was hands-down his role before he proposed."

"Who's going to carry your train for you?"

Neal was confused for a moment, then he glared at his best friend. "You're an asshole." Mozzie laughed, sipping his wine. "We're both wearing tuxes. There's _no_ fuckin' way I'm wearin' a dress to my own wedding."

Mozzie burst into laughter. "I swear you're from Texas," he said through his laughter. "You sound perfectly Texan." Neal kept glaring. "You know I love you man. I'm just playin'."

"You're about you get smacked in a second."

He ducked when Neal playfully swung out at him. "Why do you talk like that sometimes?"

Neal rolled his eyes. "I _rarely_ talk like that. You're starting to sound like Mike, thinking I have a southern accent."

Mozzie raised an eyebrow. "You _do_ have a southern accent on occasion, whether you notice or not."

"Whatever you say," he muttered as he raised his glass to take a sip. Before he had that chance, his phone started ringing on the table. Cocking an eyebrow, he set his glass down and grabbed his phone. "Blocked number." He glanced up at Mozzie, picking it up and answering. "Hello?"

He could hear someone breathing on the other end. "_Six o'clock,_" a deep voice said, sounding like it was done with a voice changer. "_Outside your home._"

His eyes widened. "Who is this?"

"_Come alone. No Feds._"

"I am a Fed," he whispered before the line went dead. Mozzie gave Neal a questioning look as Neal set his phone down. "They altered their voice, asked me to meet them outside of _here_ at six, and told me to come alone."

Mozzie's brows furrowed. "Are you gonna tell Suit?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he speed dialed his number one. "_Neal?_"

"I need you to come home now."

"_Hon, what's wrong?_"

He shook his head, closing his eyes. "I-I don't know, Peter. I think someone just threatened me on the phone, but I don't know why." His heart was pounding in his chest and Mozzie rested a hand on his arm, offering some support. "_Please_ come home. Fuck the groceries and clothes. I _need_ you."

He heard Peter talking quickly to someone and then Peter was talking to him again. "_Are you alone right now?_"

"No. Moz is with me."

"_Okay. I'll be home as soon as I can. Lock the apartment door._"

Neal hung up and pushed his chair back, standing and heading to the door. He locked it up and backed away. "Neal, it's all right," Mozzie said, coming up to stand behind him. He rested a hand on Neal's back, staring up at his best friend concernedly. "Peter's coming. You know I'll keep you safe until he gets here."

He glanced down at the balding man before heading over to his bedroom. He opened his nightstand and pulled his gun out, cocking it. Mozzie stood silently by the door. "I'm _not_ gonna…" He trailed off, his throat feeling like it was constricting. Mozzie nearly ran over to Neal as he watched his friend shudder and shut his eyes tightly. His breathing was erratic, even as Mozzie kept trying to talk to him and get him to respond. He kept seeing Craig and Adler's faces pop up, smiling cruelly at him. His hands trembled and beads of sweat began to form on his face and neck, his fingers tightening around his gun.

Before he knew it, someone was messing with the door. His eyes flew open and Mozzie backed up when Neal's gun came down to chest level. He held it out, aiming it at the door. As soon as it flew open, he almost fired until Peter shot through and threw his hands up. "Honey, it's just me," he said slowly. He wondered how long he'd drawn into himself. With all of the ice and snow outside and Peter across town, it had to be at least fifteen, twenty minutes. Peter stepped forward, holding his hands up even as he came closer to Neal. Neal didn't understand why he wasn't lowering his gun. He didn't want to shoot Peter, but he didn't want to let his guard down either. "Neal, give me the gun."

Peter carefully reached out for it, gently prying it out of Neal's shaking hands. Neal's hands dropped down to his sides and his eyes were locked onto Peter's. Mozzie heaved a sigh of relief once Peter put the safety on Neal's gun. "What's going on?" Mozzie asked quietly. "I thought he was going to shoot himself!"

Peter shook his head, watching Neal. He could tell just by looking at Neal that the younger man was having some sort of panic attack. "Honey, it's okay. You're going to get through this. You always do," he said soothingly. "Can you come sit with me on the couch?" Neal didn't nod, but his hand went out to Peter's extended hand and gripped it tightly. "Good, Neal," he whispered, slowly leading Neal to the couch. "Moz, wet a washcloth and bring it to me, please." Mozzie did just that, rushing to do it as quickly as he could. Once Peter had Neal on the couch, he smiled at Neal. "You're okay, sweetheart. You're at home."

Neal's vision blurred and then refocused. He was seeing Peter's face, but he kept seeing _them._ "What else can I do?" Mozzie asked as he handed Peter the washcloth.

Peter gently started wiping Neal's face and neck with the cloth. "Water, please," Neal said hoarsely. Peter looked at Mozzie expectantly, unwilling to get up from the couch and leave Neal.

As soon as Mozzie came back with a glass of water, he handed it to Peter and Peter set the washcloth down on his thigh, realizing that Neal wouldn't be able to hold the glass because of his trembling, so he helped Neal take a drink. "Peter, is he—?"

"Shut up, Mozzie," Peter said gently. "Neal, you're upset. You have every right to be. Can you talk to me? I'm here to help you, hon."

"Phone," he said quietly. He swallowed. "Someone called me."

Peter nodded. "All right. Can you tell me what they said? If you can't, it's okay."

Neal blinked rapidly. "They want me to meet them alone."

"Okay." Neal looked at the glass of water and Peter held it up for him again. "Hon, you're doing very well." To reinforce that, he squeezed Neal's hand gently. He kept smiling at Neal. "Is there anything else you can tell me?" Neal shook his head, lifting his right hand to rub his own chest. Peter watched the motion before his eyes flickered back up to Neal's eyes.

"What's wrong with him?"

Peter briefly glared at the short man. "Relax, Moz." Neal closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders tensing as he sucked in a sharp breath. "Neal, can you try to match my breathing? Listen to my breaths and mimic them, hon." He exaggerated his breaths a little bit, breathing deeply and slowly, but after a few moments Neal started to copy him, registering Peter's voice. Keeping his eyes closed helped him calm down. Peter was still rubbing the cloth over Neal's skin. "You're doing great, sweetheart."

When Neal felt like his heart wouldn't hammer its way out of his chest, he opened his eyes slowly and saw Peter's comforting smile and soft eyes. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly very dry again. "Peter."

Peter lifted the glass for Neal again. "Yes?"

"I'm scared."

Mozzie was sitting on the table in front of the couch, silently watching the couple. He didn't understand what was happening to Neal, but he was glad Peter did. "I know you are. That's okay, babe."

Neal bowed his head, staring at his lap. "Did they break out?"

Peter simply said, "No," without having to ask who he was referring to. "I'd be the first person to know if they did. They can't hurt you. You're not in any danger."

"Promise?" he asked brokenly when he looked at Peter again.

"I promise, sweetheart. You're safe. You're at home with me and Mozzie." He tentatively leaned forward and kissed Neal. He was relieved that Neal hadn't jumped back to get away from him. "We're here for you, hon. You aren't alone." Neal leaned closer to Peter and Peter held the glass of water out, which Mozzie quickly retrieved so Peter could wrap his arms around Neal. Neal was starting to calm down and he was grateful to have come home before Neal _did_ shoot himself out of sheer panic and the wrong kind of self-preservation. "Honey?"

"I'm okay," Neal said, kissing Peter's arm. "Thank you," he whispered, sounding more than grateful.

Peter kissed Neal's hair. "You don't have to thank me, hon. You're the one you should thank." Neal buried his face in Peter's chest, slightly embarrassed for the way he'd acted. Peter was used to it, but he didn't like looking weak in front of Mozzie. It hurt his pride.

•◊•

Peter sat at the dining room table with Tara and Rebecca, sharing wine with them. He was pretty much sipping every ten minutes at his glass, being more of a beer guy. Neal was on their bed, writing in his journal. He had his knees pulled up and his back against the headboard. Rebecca leaned back a bit to look at him and Peter caught her doing it. "He needs his privacy," Peter said gently. She looked at Peter, biting her lip. "He's all right. The journal helps him when he wants to put his thoughts into words. He thinks better like that."

"You're okay with him writing instead of talking?"

He shrugged. Neal needed the journal to relieve his stress. They'd avoided the meeting someone made over the phone and they hadn't seen anyone show up, which was curious. It kept Neal on edge though. "I'm happy to do whatever I can. If that means I let him write and give him space, that's fine. If he wants to talk, I'm more than happy to listen to him."

"I can still hear, you know."

"Yes, darling," Peter said with a hint of amusement in his tone. "Just write, sweetheart." He heard Neal close the journal and glanced to his right, watching Neal set the book down on the nightstand before heading towards them. He sat down beside Peter. "All done?" Neal nodded and Peter leaned over to kiss his temple.

Tara smiled at Neal. "I forgot to tell you that I've been talking to my parents," she said to him. He returned the smile, happy to hear that. "They've been acting the way they used to and they talk to me about Robby."

That was a major improvement since they'd last spoken. "That's fantastic. Is it helping?"

She nodded, grinning. "I have their support, which is just what I needed." She looked at Neal after a pause and her eyes widened. "I'm not saying I don't need you. I—" He just smiled at her. "God. Sometimes I really wish you weren't gay," she said, giggling. "You're such a sweetheart, just like Peter says." His left hand was idly sliding across the tabletop as one of his small calming mechanisms. She looked at the ring and her smile widened. "Every time I see that, I just feel so happy for you guys!"

Peter and Neal shared a brief, intimate look before smiling and looking at the two women across from them. "I love looking at it," Neal admitted. "I know I belong somewhere with somebody who loves me and this is proof if I ever have the slightest doubt in my mind." He lifted Peter's left hand onto the table, chuckling. "I got him one, too. Jerk kept telling me not to get him one, but I did anyway."

The older man kissed Neal when he'd turned his head towards Peter to smirk. "I already knew I was yours," he said. "But hey. I appreciate the ring, too, babe."

"We'll have matching engagement rings," Neal said excitedly. "Of course, we'll have to take them off when we get married so we can have Nicky bring them to—"

Peter kissed Neal's cheek. "We're getting separate wedding bands." Neal looked at him, eyes wide. "I like the idea of having both—as long as you do, too."

Neal's face heated up. "I was afraid to ask you if we could," he admitted. Before Peter could ask him why, Neal answered. "It's costly as fuck. I know these weren't cheap. Wedding rings are pretty much the same."

"Mm, but you seem to forget that I've told you repeatedly that you're _worth it._" Neal ducked his head and Peter grinned. "Every penny I spend on you is for a good reason, hon. I'll never regret spending money on things that we can share—things that make us both happy."

"I want a boyfriend like _either_ of you," Tara teased. "Robby was great, but wow. You guys just have, like, perfect chemistry. It's so sweet."

Peter took Neal's right hand in his left, smiling at the younger man. "It's just a matter of waiting for the right moment," he said softly, staring at his lover. "You could go years without finding the one you'll spend the rest of your life with." Neal's blush made butterflies flutter in Peter's stomach. "It took what felt like forever for me to find this brat and make him mine."

"Way to ruin such a romantic speech," Neal muttered as Peter ruffled his hair. Tara giggled, covering her mouth as she watched the two men share little glares and eye rolls. "He actually came to _me_ and asked me how he could be openly gay, which turned into him giving me a very unexpected and passionate kiss, and then he dry humped me against a wall."

Tara laughed and Peter stared at him. "Oh, I _dry_ humped you? It didn't _end_ like that if I remember correctly."

Neal smirked. "Then he took it upon himself to spend the night. Mind you, this son of a bitch was still married to his wife."

"Peter, you dog!"

Peter pecked Neal's lips, affectionately rubbing his thumb over Neal's hand. "You didn't complain when I sucked you off in the shower," he murmured low enough so that only Neal heard him. He shivered in response, refraining from moaning aloud. He remembered their first shower together and damn had it been steamy. "He was tempting me with his questions, so I showed him what I wanted."

Neal glanced at Rebecca, noticing that she'd been quiet for a while and that she was frowning. Tara and Peter carried on, teasing each other back and forth about his and Neal's relationship. Neal gently pried himself out of Peter's grip, which held no resistance. Peter watched him as he bantered with Tara though. Neal motioned for Rebecca to come with him and she did rather quickly. He led her into the narrow hallway leading to the bathroom and turned to face her. "Everything okay? You haven't said very much since Peter made dinner."

"Just jealous," she admitted quietly.

"Of what? Me and Peter?" She nodded and he gave her a soft smile. "I never thought I'd find Peter in my lifetime, Rebecca. It took way too long for me to, but I'm glad I did. You'll find your Peter soon enough—when you least expect it."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "Neal, you're hot. It'd be easy for you to find a guy who likes you."

Neal's gut twisted for a moment. He really didn't like that she implied he was only loved for his appearance. For obvious reasons. "You'd be surprised. Peter was someone I met by chance. If I hadn't gotten accepted as a probationary agent in the White Collar division, I would never have met him." He watched her chew her lip. "You don't need me to tell you you're beautiful. Look at yourself and—mm."

His eyes widened when Rebecca threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She slid her hands up his neck and started weaving her fingers through his hair. He was totally stunned, but eventually came back to himself and got her off of him. They were both breathing heavily. She stared at him the way Peter always looked at him. "Neal, I'm in love with you," she whispered.

He didn't know what to say. The fact that he wasn't hard _at all_ definitely gave away his feelings—or lack thereof. She looked down and noticed, frowning. "I… I'm sorry. You're sweet and all, but I…I love Peter."

She looked embarrassed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You had sex with Nicky's mom. Why don't you want me?"

"I was drunk when I was with Nick's mom," he whispered. "I'm in love with Peter. He's going to be my husband, Rebecca. I'm sorry, but I told you that I'm entirely gay. I'm not bi."

She looked very disappointed and it was hurting him to know he was making her look like that. He rubbed his thumb over his engagement ring, reminding himself that it _was_ real. His fiancé was just in the other room and that man loved him enough to ask him to spend the rest of their lives together. Peter wasn't a dream or illusion. "Neal…" She moved forward and he backed up into the wall.

"I can't get it up," he said bluntly. "I'm not attracted to women. At all."

"What if you pretend I'm Peter?"

He stared at her in disbelief. "Rebecca, I'm not going to have sex with you," he said quietly, trying not to get Peter's attention. The last thing he wanted was for Peter to think he was going to have an affair with a woman—especially since he _did_ have sex with a woman before. Peter did, too, but that wasn't relevant to the situation at hand. "Please, don't pressure me. You of all people should understand," he said brokenly, starting to break into a sweat.

"It isn't rape if I ask you to do it."

He closed his eyes, breathing heavily. His heart was starting to race and he screamed, "Peter!" as soon as she tried to loosen his tie. He heard the chair flip over and then Peter was in the hallway. Rebecca backed away. Peter came to stand in front of him, whispering things to him that would relax him, taking his hand and stroking his hair.

Peter held him close without smothering him. "You're okay," he whispered. "I've got you." Neal nodded, sliding his free arm around Peter's torso. "What happened, honey?" He was concerned. He felt how hard Neal's heart was hammering in his chest because they were pressed so close together. Tara was standing in the hallway threshold, her eyes wide as she watched Neal. Neal inhaled sharply, keeping quiet. He didn't want to start anything, but he felt like it might already be too late for that. Peter liked Rebecca. He liked Rebecca, too, just…not the way she wanted him to, apparently. "Hon?"

Neal gently pushed Peter back enough to look up at him, his eyes pleading silently. Peter was confused, trying his hardest to understand Neal's silent words. He wiped Neal's face and neck gently, his eyes locked onto Neal's. He really wished Neal would say something so he could try to fix the problem, whatever it was. Then it dawned on him that Rebecca and Neal were in the hallway together. Still holding Neal, he glanced over his shoulder and looked at her. "I don't know what's wrong with him," she whispered.

Peter's attention flickered back to Neal as he made a strangled noise. "I don't mean to be rude, but I think it might be best if you both leave," Peter said gently. Rebecca hesitated, but left the hallway. Tara stayed put, concerned. "Tara, please. I'll help him. Don't worry." She nodded. "I'll call you both when I figure things out. He'll be okay." He looked at Neal. "You're okay. I promise, hon."

The younger man knew when they were alone after the door shut and he blurted, "She tried to pressure me," so fast that Peter almost asked him to repeat that again. Peter was brushing Neal's hair back, his brows furrowed. "She… She kissed me. P-Peter, I swear, I never—I'd never—Please, believe me…"

"Honey, honey," Peter said soothingly. "It's okay. I don't think you're lying to me." He kissed Neal gently. "You'd never what?"

Neal swallowed. "I'd _never_ cheat on you," he whispered.

Peter nodded slowly. "She…propositioned you?" The fearful look in Neal's eyes was answer enough. "Honey, I'm not mad," he said slowly, making sure Neal understood that. "I'm not mad at you at all, okay? I know you'd never do that to me."

"I love you so much, Peter. I'd never hurt you," he stammered. Peter slid his hand down to Neal's chest and his heart wrenched at the sight of Neal shutting his eyes tightly, turning his head away as if bracing himself for a hit.

He rubbed Neal's chest, waiting for Neal to realize he wasn't going to be struck. When Neal tentatively opened his eyes and turned his head, Peter smiled at him. "I trust you, Neal," he said quietly. "And you know I love you. Don't worry about this. You did nothing wrong, honey."

"I-I d-didn't st-stop her," he stuttered.

"Babe, you didn't want to hit her. You're too good to shove a woman," he said. "You care about her too much to push her away and that's okay. She was the one who did something wrong." He tentatively leaned forward to kiss Neal, relieved when Neal's lips moved against his. "You did nothing wrong," he said again. "I'll talk to her. What she did to you just now… I can't forgive that so easily. She scared you—and you had every right to be scared." His lover swallowed hard, and he did his best to calm him. "Breathe, sweetheart." Neal did and he slowly started to calm down. "There you go."

Neal's face heated up. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "That was really pathetic."

Peter shook his head, kissing Neal's forehead. "No, don't say that. She cornered you and that was scary." Neal put his hands over Peter's as Peter rubbed his chest. It started to calm his heart, having Peter's hands on him. "I'm going to talk to her about this. I don't like what she did. She should have known better."

Neal nodded, looking down for a moment. "She wanted me to pretend she was you." Peter listened to Neal, keeping his expression soft to keep Neal calm. He knew that if he got angry at Rebecca for treating Neal that way, Neal would think Peter was angry with _him_ and cower in fear—fear that was absolutely unwarranted in Peter's mind since they'd been together for almost two years. "Peter, I'm sorry. I didn't know she felt that way about me. I… I…"

"It's all right," Peter said gently. "You're not at fault. She…abused your friendship and I'll make sure she understands that I won't allow her to do that to you again." Neal nodded, closing his eyes. Peter lifted Neal's left hand and kissed Neal's knuckles. His lips lingered on the engagement ring, which made Neal open his eyes. "This symbolizes how much I love and trust you," he said, "as well as how much you love and trust me." Neal gave him a small smile. "There's the sun," Peter said, grinning. Neal chuckled, his face a light shade of pink. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's go curl up on the couch. I'll pop a movie in—your choice." Neal allowed himself to be led to the couch and he asked Peter to pick something at random. The movie he put in was something Neal hadn't seen before, so he had no idea what it was, but Peter held him close as soon as he'd come back to the couch. He pressed a kiss against Neal's temple, taking Neal's left hand to intertwine both of their left hands. He rubbed their rings together, looking down at Neal. He would definitely be having a conversation with Rebecca about this. Neal, despite being seemingly on the mend, was still vulnerable and she'd been unfair to him.

Rebecca and Tara were well aware of his situation because of their group therapy and Peter was disappointed in Rebecca for exploiting Neal and for scaring him. He didn't think Neal would let Rebecca do anything to him, but there was no telling, really. Neal didn't want to be violent and he might have frozen in his fear. What gave him some notion of relief was that Neal had screamed for _him,_ so he was aware of where he was and who was around him. He didn't get thrown back into his nightmares, or at least he didn't go back as far as he normally did in situations similar to this. _That_ was definitely improvement and he would make sure Neal knew he was proud of him.


	42. Chapter 42

Neal stared at the screen in front of him, holding the headphone close to his ear. "Need I remind you how much I dislike being on this end of things?" he grumbled.

Peter chuckled through the microphone. "_I brought you out, didn't I?_"

"Oh, yes, and I'm eternally grateful." His voice dripped sarcasm and Diana smiled at him. She rested a hand on his thigh and he placed his right hand on top of hers. He watched Peter pace in an alleyway. It had a dead end, so they were watching one entrance as well as the street length that served as a prelude to its entrance. He smiled a little to himself as he watched Peter fidget with the engagement ring. Movement on another screen made his gaze flicker away from his fiancé for a moment. "All right, hon. Showtime."

Peter turned around as a man entered the alleyway. "_James Kindridge?_" the man asked Peter, one of the aliases they'd given him.

"_That would be me. Carlson?_"

The other man nodded and stepped closer to Peter. They were closing in on a drug cartel and this guy was the one selling to his circle. If they brought him in, they might get him to flip on his companions and sell them out for his own reduced sentence. They were making the exchange. Peter gave Carlson the account number with the money Carlson demanded. They were planning on tracing it back to any of his next drug buys. Neal glanced at the street view and said, "Peter, you've got company. Two brutes closing in on both sides." He waited a moment and watched their shadows shift. "_Fuck,_" he hissed. "Babe, they're armed." He grabbed his walkie talkie to connect with Jones and their other team and growled, "Move in now. Two armed men—possibly three. Peter's unarmed."

Peter tried to play it cool, but he'd tensed up. Diana and Neal were out of the van and running down the block and a half they'd parked away from the alley. Both of them had their guns out and the safeties off. When they neared the alley, they could tell that someone was being physically beaten and Neal's heart hurt because he knew Peter's grunts. He shared a look with Diana and they both flew around the corner, holding their guns out in front of them. "FBI!" they both yelled out.

"Drop your weapons!" Diana continued as they advanced into the alley.

Peter was lying on the ground. He looked up and saw Neal, giving his fiancé a small look. Neal's nod was hardly noticeable. He shot a bullet at the brick wall behind them all and used its distraction to take down one of the men, grabbing his wrist and spinning the man's arm to knock the gun out of his hand. Diana did the same with the other man. Peter and Carlson were down on the ground, both of them slightly injured.

Neal had his man pinned down, his knee digging into the brute's back, and cuffed within moments of getting the gun out of his hands. He was breathing heavily at that point and his eyes flickered over to find Peter. Jones came rushing around the corner with four agents, relieved to see that everyone was all right. Diana and Neal both pulled their cuffed criminals up from the ground and shoved them towards Jones' agents, who took over.

Neal put his gun in its holster and moved towards Peter, holding his hand out for the older man. Peter gratefully took it and Neal pulled him up. "Nice moves," Peter complimented him, resting a hand on Neal's bicep. Diana was cuffing Carlson, dragging him back to the cars to escort him back to the FBI building. Neal grinned at Peter, relieved to see that Peter's injuries were minimal.

"You look sexy when you actually get roughed up," Neal said, amused, as he wiped the blood away from Peter's temple and lip. Peter rolled his eyes. "It was nice to be the one saving you for once."

"I can only imagine," he teased. "C'mon, brat. We've got a few people to interrogate." Neal smiled, slinging an arm around Peter's waist. Peter was limping a bit, so he was more than happy to offer some physical support. It wouldn't be necessary in a little while though. They walked back to where they'd parked the _Taurus_ and he helped Peter into the passenger side seat before circling the front of the car to get into the driver's seat. Peter watched Neal as Neal drove them back, following the black FBI-issue car in front of him. "You're doing much better," Peter said quietly.

Neal smiled, driving comfortably with one hand on the wheel, the other sliding over to grab Peter's left hand. "Well, I've been thirty-four for a week," he said casually. "I think I'm finally starting to grow up."

Peter laughed. "Hon, you've been a grown-up since Nicky came into your life." Neal shrugged, agreeing with him a little. "And I think you'll appreciate it when I give this to you." Neal glanced over at Peter when they were at a red light. His eyes widened when Peter was holding a badge out for him to take. Peter opened it up and Neal's eyes lit up. "Reese approved. Congratulations, _Special_ Agent Caffrey," he said softly.

Someone honked their horn behind him and he rolled his eyes, driving on. "I'm going to thank Reese as soon as we get back." He took the badge appreciatively and tucked it into his suit jacket. "And thank _you,_ Special Agent burke, because I'm sure you had something to do with this in some fashion."

"Your work speaks for itself."

"Even with all of the time I took off between family and personal issues?"

Peter nodded. "You worked on things from home with me, so that counts as being on-the-clock. Reese said you were doing very well."

They drove in quiet for the duration of the ride back to the FBI building. As soon as they got to the twenty-first floor, Neal nearly crashed into someone. He started to apologize, until he looked up and saw who it was. His mouth went dry almost immediately. "Hello, Caffrey." Peter's hand was instantly placed at the center of Neal's back, making sure he knew he wasn't alone. "I've heard a lot of good things about you over the past two months. I bet your boss is glad to have you back." He glanced at Peter, a cruel and devious look in his eyes. "Did you know that a relationship between a superior and inferior agent is frowned upon?"

"He's a Special Agent now, Fowler. If you're going to criticize, at least keep your information up to date." Neal smiled a little at that. "Now, we have more important things to do." He nudged Neal gently and they took two steps before Fowler moved to stand in Neal's way again. "Fowler, this is bordering on harassment."

"I had some interesting files sent to my office a couple of weeks ago," he said slowly. Peter's anger was rising, his face heating up. He still hadn't told Neal he knew Fowler was behind a lot of his pain. He didn't want Neal to live with that, especially because Fowler would surely find some way to bring them down before they could do anything to him, which is why he was working his ass off with Diana to find as much evidence as they could to incriminate Fowler. "If you'll both join me in the conference room."

Peter's jaw tensed and Neal gave him a cautious sidelong glance. Peter walked after Fowler, mentally shooting the man in the back of the head repeatedly. He was glad Neal still had his gun. Otherwise, he might actually murder this man. Fortunately, Neal took a moment to place both of their guns on Neal's desk. When they entered the conference room, a few agents were already seated around the table, Diana and Jones included. Peter led Neal to the far end of the room and they took their seats.

No one said a word as Fowler started up a video. Peter was stroking Neal's left hand, rubbing the engagement ring slowly, in an attempt to comfort Neal. Heavy breathing was the only sound on the recording at first and they were all confused, at least until the man moaned, "_Please…stop…_"

Neal's heart leapt into his throat and he sat up straighter. The video panned back from its pitch black scene and he knew what this was. He didn't know it existed, but he knew what this was. Peter's eyes widened as Neal—bound, bloody, and naked—appeared onscreen. He was begging and Craig came into view once the view was set where he wanted it to be. Peter gripped Neal's hand tightly. Diana was looking at Neal, concerned. As soon as Craig touched Neal onscreen and started hurting him, Neal made a choked sound and lurched out of his chair, wrenching his hand out of Peter's. He ran out of the conference room and down towards the bathrooms as quickly as he could. "Fowler, what the fuck is this?" Peter growled, standing up. He glanced at the screen and watched Craig hurt his fiancé. "This is fucking pornography. Turn it _off._" When Fowler made no move to do so, Peter yelled, "Turn it off, damn you!"

Diana reacted and went to shut off the video as Neal started screaming in it. The agents in the room were all confused and concerned. "Boss, go check on him. I'll take care of this."

Peter nodded, his eyes locked on Fowler's, glaring. When he left the conference room, he raced towards the bathrooms. As he stopped outside of the door, he could hear the tortured cries being muffled. His eyes widened and his heart froze as he pushed the door open and shut it quickly, locking it. Neal was in the furthest stall, buried into a corner beside the toilet, his hands covering his face as he screamed in terror. "Oh, God. Oh, God, honey." Peter ran into the stall and knelt in front of Neal. He knew without looking into the toilet that Neal had gotten sick. "Neal, sweetheart, I'm here. Honey, you're safe. You're okay. Everything's okay. There's no danger here."

"Please!" he screamed. "Please, stop!" He kept pleading, sobbing into his hands. "_Peter,_ help me!"

Peter leaned forward, resting a hand on Neal's cheek gently. "Neal, I'm here. Peter's here. Honey, I need you to look at me." He used his other hand to gently try to pry Neal's hands away from his face. When he was met with resistance, he stopped. He couldn't force Neal to do anything without making things worse. "Neal, you're with me. They're _not_ here. They can't hurt you anymore." Neal sounded like he was in pain and that was when Peter realized that Neal's nails were scratching at his own face violently. Peter didn't know what to do. He tried to stop Neal as gently as he could manage, but it did nothing and he was starting to notice blood on Neal's fingernails.

He regretted his actions the moment he made them. He pulled Neal forward, holding him close. He grabbed Neal's wrists and pinned them behind his back, holding both of his wrists in one of his hands. Neal was screaming in his ear, begging him to let go. Peter actually started crying as he cuffed Neal's hands behind his back. He didn't want to do that and he hated himself for it, but he didn't want Neal to hurt himself. "Don't do this to me!" His face was red, tear-stained and covered with scratches—some deeper than others.

He cupped Neal's cheeks, begging him to listen, to calm his breathing. He didn't know how long it took, but it felt like forever before Neal's screams became whimpers and he shook violently against Peter's chest. Peter stroked his hair, his eyes shut tightly. He couldn't help crying as he listened to Neal in so much pain—terrified. Neal shifted himself a bit to make himself more comfortable, nuzzling his face into the crook of Peter's neck. "Honey," Peter whispered, his voice thick. His left hand was in Neal's hair, the fingers of his right hand entwined with Neal's fingers.

"Peter," Neal said shakily. Peter felt Neal's tears on his skin and it made his own lips tremble. He'd been unable to help Neal, so he'd just ridden it out with him. "Peter, please, get the handcuffs off of me. _Please._"

He helped Neal onto his knees and then got onto his own, pulling the key out of his pocket. He unlocked the cuffs and stuffed them into his pocket. "I'm so sorry," Peter said brokenly. "I had no idea…" Neal shook his head. "He's going to pay for doing that to you. I swear to you I'll make him regret ever setting foot in this building."

Both men rose to their feet. Neal leaned against Peter slightly and Peter was more than willing to hold onto him if it made him feel safe. "I… I want to get back out there." He slowly stepped towards the bathroom sink, turning the water on. Peter watched him gather water in his hands and splash his face, gasping quietly. "That thing needs to be destroyed," he whispered, arched over the sink, his face dripping. "I _never_ want anyone else to see it."

Peter nodded. Neal shut the water off and Peter grabbed paper towels for him, handing them to him. Neal dried his face off and it didn't seem like it made much of a difference to Peter. Neal's face was still splotchy. He led them out of the bathroom, holding onto Peter's right hand tightly. Peter kept his eyes on Neal, waiting for the 'flight' of fight-or-flight to kick in. Peter glanced up to see Diana and Fowler in Hughes' office. When he caught sight of Peter and Neal, he tentatively gestured for them to come up as well.

Neal could feel the other agents staring at him, but he didn't give a damn—or at least that's what he told himself. He strode into Hughes' office, his face wrecked from crying and clawing at himself, but he stood tall and looked directly at Hughes, Peter standing at his side. "Fowler, I've put you on report," Hughes said. "You exploited very sensitive information surrounding the personal life of one of _my_ agents. That's not allowed here. Not without my expressed permission and you certainly didn't have it—or his, for that matter."

"I thought the video would help—"

"You thought exposing my rape to the entire office would _help?_" Neal said loudly, disbelief coloring his every word. "Garrett, I don't know what the fuck I did to you to make you do this to me, but this was uncalled for." Diana shut the door, biting her lip. She would support Neal in every way possible, especially because she knew Fowler asked Craig for the video he'd played in the conference room. "You can tell me it's revenge for sleeping with you, but I don't think that's it anymore. You made my life hell by stalking me after I left you. You followed me here—to my home with my family—and you're… You're exposing things you _know_ should never be seen."

Peter kept quiet, though he'd like to speak his mind. If he did, he'd probably lose his job. This was Neal's fight. If he needed to step in, he wouldn't hesitate. Hell, losing his job was preferable to losing _Neal._ "Our personal issues have nothing to do with this." Neal saw the look in Fowler's eyes and knew right away that that was a lie. "Not everything is about you, Neal."

"Oh, yeah? If that were the case, my sex tape wouldn't have shown up!" he cried out. He was silent for a moment, several thoughts flowing through his mind at once before his mind reeled and he physically stepped back in horror. "_You_ did this to me," he whispered, his eyes wide and pained. "Mozzie told me somebody arranged for me to be raped. It was you, wasn't it?"

"No."

Neal's eyes hardened and it took every ounce of strength to keep from throwing a punch at Fowler. "Don't lie to me. You had some role in this. You might not have physically touched me, but you set this up. You had him rape me."

Diana couldn't take it anymore and Peter's lips parted in a silent gasp as she set her phone down on the desk and played a recording. Neal's eyes flickered to the phone as they all listened to the recorded message. "Neal," Peter whispered, staring at his lover.

Neal's eyes were wide as he listened to Fowler and Craig talk about him like a sex toy, discussing how to use and abuse him. He never felt so numb in his entire life. He listened to Craig rape him in two different phone messages before he lurched forward and stopped the playback. Neal stared at the phone and then at the ring on his finger. If Diana had this recorded that meant that Peter knew, he rationalized. And if Peter knew, he didn't tell Neal. He purposely kept Neal out of this and Neal couldn't decide whether he should be pissed off, relieved, or seriously wounded by that. "Garrett Fowler, you're under arrest for the use of indecent exposure of another individual, forced and suggested solicitation of another individual, and involvement in the forcible rape of an individual." Fowler gaped at Hughes as he listed the charges. He tried to run, but Neal was faster. He managed to get Fowler on the floor and pulled the older man's arms behind his back, pinning them there uncomfortably while Peter fumbled for his handcuffs and cuffed Fowler. Neal rose to his feet, pulling Fowler up with him.

"You called me the other night," Neal whispered. Fowler, feeling cornered as he was, simply nodded, glaring at his former partner. "I hope you rot in hell," he hissed.

Diana took Fowler into the bullpen, guiding him along with Jones and another agent while telling him his rights. Peter stared at Neal in awe. Considering what he'd witnessed in the bathroom, Neal was holding himself together extremely well. Hughes came around and clapped Neal's shoulder. "He'll be behind bars just as long as those other bastards," he told Neal.

"I thought this was all over when Adler was arrested," he said more to himself than to Hughes or Peter. "It wasn't—Craig ruined me. When he was arrested, I felt broken, but I also thought it was over then." He closed his eyes and breathed in sharply. "With Garrett arrested, I _know_ this is over."

Peter took Neal into his office a little while later and they sat across from each other, sipping coffee from their mugs. Peter was considering questioning how Neal was acting calm, but he didn't _want_ Neal to go into hysterics, nor did he want to give off the impression that he was waiting for that to happen. "How do you feel?" he asked instead.

Neal's eyes flickered up from the desk to meet Peter's. He gave his fiancé a soft smile. "Like everything's falling into place now. The three men who ruined me—destroyed me are locked up." He hunched his shoulders for a moment before relaxing. "I can finally be happy," he whispered.

A knock on the door made them both glance in its direction. "Hey," Elizabeth said, smiling at the two men. Neal stood and she quickly moved to hug him. "Di called me. You're okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," he murmured into her hair, holding her. "Thanks, El."

As soon as they separated, she ruffled his hair, delighting in the way he laughed. "I came to check on you boys. Di was really concerned on the phone and I wanted to see you both myself." She took Neal's hand and held it, smiling at him. She saw the marks on his face and wondered what happened, but Diana did tell her that Neal ran off for a few minutes, so she kind of assumed that Neal might have gotten slightly self-destructive in those few minutes. Either way, she smiled at him. Neal kissed her cheek before excusing himself, grabbing the two mugs on Peter's desk to go refill them. As soon as he was out of earshot, El giggled. "Didn't he get promoted?"

Peter grinned. "Yeah. He's my Special Agent now, but old habits die hard." He stopped watching Neal for a moment to focus on Elizabeth. "Thank you for being so kind to him, El. That means a lot more to him than he'll ever be able to tell you."

"He's the future Mister Neal Burke. Damn right I'm going to be kind to him!" She giggled, turning to look at Neal. "He's like a little brother I want to love and protect. I see a lot of similarities between him and Nicky when he's happy."

The older man chuckled. "Well, Nicky is his son after all." He smiled to himself. "Neal can act like a little kid when he's happy. I love that about him. He relates to his son in that manner, but he's still the daddy figure he's always been with Nick. I'm learning from him how to raise a kid."

Peter moved towards El, sliding an arm around her waist. Diana was talking to Neal. "You're thinking about adopting with him, right?"

"We've talked about it."

She leaned against Peter, sighing happily. "I want you boys to get a baby who will grow up to call me Auntie El."

"You do realize Nick calls you that, right?" Peter asked, amused. "You're not just his poppa's ex-wife. You're his aunt. Neal has no sisters, so the only other aunt Nick's got is Cara. Oh, well, I guess June is his aunt, too, but I'd say she's more of a grandmother to him." El giggled. "Auntie El and Auntie Di," he murmured.

Elizabeth hugged Peter. "I'm really glad you met him. Hon, you'd be miserable if we were still together." He didn't confirm nor deny that. He loved El. He just didn't _love_ her. He couldn't fill the void that Diana filled for her nor could she fill the void that Neal filled for him. "I look at you guys and just think, 'wow.' You two are going to be married someday. It feels like just yesterday when I told you to get your ass over to his apartment and tell him how you feel."

"Believe me. I know. It doesn't feel like we've been together for nearly two years." He laughed lightly, shaking his head. "I feel like I've known him all my life. We don't have any secrets between us that we can't share with each other."

"Does he know about things we did in the bedroom?"

"We don't discuss past sexual encounters in depth," he muttered. "And hell no. He's too sensitive to that. He'd probably assume I'd take advantage of him if I told him what I used to do to _you,_ the oh-so-sweet-and-innocent El."

"He thinks I'm sweet and innocent? Awe, how cute!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "I don't think he's interested in being handcuffed or blindfolded. I'd probably scare the living hell out of him." She nodded, considering that. "If _he_ suggests it, we'll talk. Otherwise, I'm perfectly content with making love to him when he feels comfortable enough."

She looked up at her ex-husband. "Do you two…?"

He nodded. "He's been feeling better. There are of course moments when he's too afraid to turn me down, but too afraid to say yes altogether, but he lets me know when he's in the mood. I don't pressure him." He squeezed Elizabeth gently. "I don't think he's fragile enough to break if I touch him, but I don't want to find out if he is," he said softly. "I'd rather keep him in one piece."

The two in the office smiled when Neal hugged Diana. "You've got your perfect and extremely sweet hubby," she said quietly, "and I've got my tough and passionate wifey." Peter laughed, raising an eyebrow at her. "Neal and I talk. He refers to you as his husband from time to time and I think it's sweet."

Neal and Diana started to head back up to El and Peter, talking on their way up the stairs. "He's felt like my husband for a while now," Peter admitted, looking at El for a moment before smiling at his fiancé. Neal's eyes lit up when they met Peter's and the atmosphere felt different somehow—better.


	43. Chapter 43

Peter came out of the shower to find Neal sitting at the dining room table with a case file in front of him. Nicky and Michael were doing their homework around him. He'd left Neal to his file before the shower and wasn't entirely surprised to come back to Neal in the exact same position. He walked over and kissed Neal's hair. "Hey," Neal said, distracted. He looked up and smiled at Peter, who pecked his lips and simultaneously dripped water on him. "Mm. Go dry off and get dressed, then come back."

The older man chuckled and nodded. He headed over to the bedroom and got dressed when he was out of everyone else's line of sight. He toweled his hair and smiled at the framed picture of Neal and Nicky on his nightstand. Neal was bent over with Nicky on his back, his thin arms wrapped around his father's neck, and they were both smiling. The close-up had been the perfect touch, Peter thought. He went back to the dining room table and sat between Neal and Nicky. Nicky was getting frustrated off to his left and Neal seemed very lost in thought off to his right. He didn't want to distract Neal, so he turned to Nicky. "Need help, kiddo?"

"Poppa, I don't know how to do this."

The boy turned the paper towards Peter and Peter smiled. It was dividing with decimals. "All right, you. Listen up," he said gently. He scooted closer and made up a problem of his own so he wasn't doing Nicky's homework for him. He explained the steps he took to find his answer and Nicky seemed to get what he was saying. "Can you try this one again?" he asked, pointing at the problem Nicky had gotten stuck on. Nicky nodded and took the pencil back from Peter, trying the problem on his own with Peter watching.

Neal was watching, too. He didn't realize Nicky needed his help, so he was grateful to have Peter there. It also helped that Peter excelled when it came to math. Neal wasn't much of a mathematician, preferring his English and literature classes. When Nicky finished, he looked up at Peter, hopeful. "Is this right, poppa?"

Peter skimmed over the problem and steps Nicky used and smiled. "Sure is." Nicky grinned and Peter ruffled his hair. "Great job, Nicky." Nicky giggled, smiling as he did the remainder of his problems.

"Thank you," Neal murmured. Peter looked at his fiancé and saw the appreciative smile. Peter leaned towards him and Neal closed the distance, kissing Peter.

"PDA," Michael muttered. He never minded seeing the two of them happy, but he'd prefer it if they'd wait until he was done with his homework. "Hello? Earth to the Burkes." Peter's hand cradled the back of Neal's head as they continued to kiss, their eyes closed. Michael swore he saw Peter's tongue slip into his brother's mouth. "Guys!" he whined. The two of them parted, panting. They looked at Michael, one eyebrow raised on both of their faces. "Take that to the bedroom, please. Some of us have homework to do."

Neal rolled his eyes. "You and Moz should start a club for prudes."

Michael seemed to consider it, which made Neal roll his eyes again. "We'll talk. Thanks for the idea, big bro!"

"Uh huh," Neal muttered. He sat upright in his chair, giving Peter sidelong glances and smiles as they all worked in quiet. Nicky was the first one done, so he went to play in his room. Michael was moaning and groaning about his anatomy and physics course until Neal groaned his own annoyance and pulled his laptop out to help Michael look up whatever he needed.

Around six-thirty, Peter kissed Neal's cheek and got up to start making dinner. Neal's case file wasn't closed until Peter shut it and picked it up, replacing it with Neal's plate. He realized everyone else had their food and hadn't registered that it was time to eat until that moment. He saw Peter open the file and look it over briefly. When Neal turned around to look at him, he saw understanding on Peter's face. It was a file about rape victims that he was trying to solve because they'd gone missing shortly after reporting what happened.

He set the file down on the counter and went back to the table with his plate. They all ate their chicken salad in near silence. The only noise in the room was Nicky's monster-like chewing. Peter was smiling and then he quietly commented, "Nick, chew with your mouth closed."

Neal looked at his son across the table and raised an eyebrow. It was his way of telling Nicky that he'd be in trouble if he didn't listen to Peter. He did listen, however, which was nice. After dinner, Nicky and Michael went into Neal and Peter's bedroom to play _Just Dance_ on their television while Peter and Neal stayed at the dining room table so Neal could work on his file again. "Well, I suppose we can't go lay down together," Neal said with a sigh, pushing his file away. "How did your sting go?"

"It was rough to start. We couldn't find security footage of the bank at first, but then we realized it'd been written over. What the infiltrator didn't know was that there was a backup copy." Neal nodded. "He got cocky and went in without a mask, so he was rather easy to find afterwards and we brought him in as well as restored the money to its owners." He rubbed Neal's forearm slowly, rolling the sleeve of Neal's shirt up a bit. "How's your case going? Any leads or suspicions?"

Neal shook his head. "No. I can't find concrete information regarding suspects or the victims. I mean, we have suspects, but they've already been questioned and cleared." He groaned and supported his head with his right hand. "One struck me as particularly strange, but I can't pin anything on him without more than just a gut feeling."

Peter scooted closer to him. "How about we work on this together?"

Neal nodded and brought the file closer to them. "All right. So, I think this guy might be guilty, but I'm not sure to what extent because he claims he only knew two of the five vics." Peter read the man's file. "Iris Palestra," Neal said. "He wasn't close to either of the two he knew, but he knew them nonetheless."

"Did you run him through the database?"

"Of course. That was the first thing I did. He's legit, which makes this even harder." Peter nodded slowly, analyzing the statements each suspect made.

Peter made a thoughtful sound and Neal sat forward, watching his fiancé. "Iris said he knew them only by name in his first statement," Peter told him, showing him on the paper. He pointed towards the bottom of the page, "But then he said in his second statement that the woman was his ex-wife and the man was her brother." A sudden thought struck Neal as he highlighted both sections Peter referred to and his brows furrowed. He picked his pen up and wrote on a blank paper 'Iris Palestra' in capital letters. Peter watched curiously as Neal started shifting letters. "You think the name is an anagram?"

"Could be," he muttered. "Ivan Bliminse didn't exist until I created him." At Peter's stunned silence, he added, "Mozzie was in the hospital once or twice. He wouldn't go in unless I promised that his real name wouldn't show up in the hospital's records or any official reports." He scribbled the first anagram he made out of the name. "Ivan Bliminse is an anagram for 'invisible man.' Mozzie liked it."

"Do you commit small crimes often?" Peter asked.

"No." He looked up from the paper to meet Peter's eyes. "The only crimes I commit are done for good reasons and I haven't committed many. I'll tell you all about them if you'd like." Peter shook his head, hearing the underlying challenge in Neal's tone. He trusts Neal. So what if he gave the hospital a false name for his best friend? It wasn't _that_ bad—and it certainly wasn't like he murdered anyone. "Got it," Neal said, sounding slightly disgusted. He turned his paper towards Peter and the older man cringed. "Serial rapist," Neal whispered.

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. "Someone thinks they're very clever."

"Interrogation room is still available right now, correct?" Peter nodded. "Give Hughes a call, tell him to have 'Iris Palestra' brought in for a follow-up." The older man pulled his phone out to do as Neal asked. Once Peter was off the phone, Neal got up and grabbed his keys from the countertop. "I'll hopefully be back s—" He cut himself off when Peter started to follow him to the door. Peter gave him a look and Neal submitted, glancing towards their bedroom. "Mike, Peter and I are heading in for a follow-up. Can you watch Nick?"

Mike nodded. "Of course. Text me when you're on your way home, all right?"

"Always." They headed out and Neal didn't lock the door behind them. Once they were outside, Neal pulled his phone out and sent a text to Mozzie, asking him to keep an ear out for Nick and Mike. Mozzie replied and said he'd be right over.

Neal drove down to the FBI building and the two of them headed up to the twenty-first floor. Jones nodded at them both before they headed down the hall to the interrogation room. They found Iris waiting in the room and Neal crossed his arms, sighing thoughtfully. "You okay?"

He nodded. "Stay out here. This is my case," he said gently, looking up at his lover. Peter was fine with that. He could hear and see everything going on in the room without making his presence known, so that didn't bother him. Peter kissed his temple before letting Neal head in. He watched Neal take his seat across from Iris and Neal sat there in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowed.

"May I ask what this is about?"

"I'm Special Agent Neal Caffrey." Neal blinked and got right to the point. "Two months ago, you were suspected of being involved in what appears to be serial rape, correct?" Iris nodded, furrowing his brows. Neal turned his paper around and showed Iris the parts he'd highlighted. "You were cleared. However, the case was reopened for reexamination and you've given two different statements about the same thing. My question to you is: which statement is legitimate or are they both false?"

Iris looked visibly nervous as Neal folded his hands together on the table, staring directly at the other man. "These are the grounds I've been called in upon?" he asked in disbelief, which confused Neal. "I don't think you're a very experienced agent if you're looking into my statements this way. I've admitted that I know the victims. What exactly are you accusing me of, Agent Caffrey?"

Neal levelly replied, "I'm not accusing you of anything, Mister Palestra. Not yet anyway." The other man looked flustered. "I'm sure you know we've looked into your files and I'm sure you know they're as clean as can be. However, Iris Palestra isn't your real name, is it?"

"You think I'm impersonating someone?"

"I think you're using an alias." The man's hands twitched and Neal watched him. "You seem upset for someone who claims to be the owner of the name he's assumed."

Iris glared at the younger man. "I will admit to you that Karen was my ex-wife and Hank was her brother."

"You said 'was.' Why?"

The other man seemed to have realized he'd slipped. "I use the past tense when I refer to people who are no longer in my life," he replied. Neal watched the man's eyes flicker across his body, resting on his engagement ring for a moment before he focused on Neal's face once again. "Agent Caffrey, how old would you say I am?"

"You're sixty years old."

He looked pleased. "I'd say you're in your mid-thirties. Am I right?" Neal grit his teeth as he nodded. "My ex-wife turned forty recently. We were married when she was thirty-five." Neal nodded, knowing all of this already and wondering how it was relevant. "Her brother is gay and we had an affair behind Karen's back." Neal didn't know that part. "I think he raped her before they disappeared because he wanted her to stay away from me."

Neal put his personal feelings aside and answered, "He reported that _he_ was also raped." Iris looked shocked. "The semen on his clothes when he came into the police station was his own, but there were also traces of another man's semen." He watched Iris glower. "It was linked to a Harold Jenkins, according to my report, and I'd say he's about your age."

"Would you now?" Something in his eyes made Neal tense. He'd seen that look before. He got out of his chair and turned halfway around to see that the guard outside was nowhere to be found. Before he could even considering calling out for the guard to figure out if he was still nearby, an arm wrapped around his throat and choked him. He tried to pry the arm off of him to no avail. The angle he was being bent at was uncomfortable and fear surged through him like lightning. When Peter didn't rush in, he knew something was really wrong. Just as he felt like he was going to collapse, he elbowed Iris in the gut. The older man grunted and his hold on Neal slipped. Neal moved quickly, kicking Iris' legs out from under him. When the other man was on his back, Neal coughed to regain some of his breath as he pulled his gun out of the holster hidden beneath his suit jacket. "You've been raped before," he said knowingly, realizing he was defeated for the moment. "I can smell your fear."

"Because you raped your ex-wife and former lover."

"Yes," he hissed. "And I _killed_ them. I killed _all_ of them." He jumped up and grabbed for Neal's gun. "And now I'm going to do the same to _you!_"

Neal didn't reply with some smart remark. His life and quite possibly Peter's was at risk. Iris was trying to turn the gun back towards Neal. Neal, determined to save himself this time, shoved Iris back and righted his hold on his gun, immediately shooting Iris in the leg. He didn't shoot to kill. He shot to defend and then he heard another shot go off in the room adjacent to the interrogation room.

He knew Iris wouldn't be getting up. The elderly man was screaming in pain. Neal decided to take his chances, darting out of the room. "Peter!" he called out, racing down the hall to get into the room the shot sounded from. As soon as he reached the door, an arm came up and he was forced back against the wall, said arm suffocating him. "Peter," he said hoarsely, gasping for air.

Peter gasped and let Neal go. "Oh, God. I thought you were Iris," he panted. "I didn't know if he'd shot you or if you'd shot him."

Again, Neal had to regain his breath. He was getting rather tired of being choked now. "I'm assuming you shot the guard?" he asked, out of breath. Peter nodded. "Iris is the killer-rapist. He admitted to it and the conversation was recorded."

Peter tapped Neal's bicep and they both sprinted back to the interrogation room where Iris was still laying on the floor, writhing in agony.

Jones and a few other agents were there within moments and taking care of the situation. Peter watched Neal, looking for any sign of distress or anxiety. "Did he…hurt you?" he asked quietly when they were alone in the hall outside of the interrogation room. Peter gently touched the bruise that was forming on Neal's neck. "Or did I do this to you?"

"It was him," Neal said, resting a hand on Peter's hip. "No worries, babe. I'm fine."

Peter drove them home from there. Neal solved his case. Iris Palestra turned out to be Harold Jenkins and he was responsible for the rape and death of five victims. He'd given Jones the locations of the bodies and Jones assigned a team to recover them and take them to a coroner to identify. Neal was more than happy to get out of there before he ended up being assigned to that. "Did he say something to you? You're…quiet," Peter asked.

Neal rubbed his ring. "He said he could tell," he answered quietly. "He admitted to his crime and threatened to do the same to me. He knew I'd been…raped before." Peter pulled into the nearest empty parking lot he could find and Neal gave him a look of confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I need to make sure you're okay," Peter said, parking the car. "I know you're on the mend, hon, but you're still…"

"Vulnerable, I know," he murmured. "I appreciate the concern, but I promise I'm fine, Peter. All he did was threaten me. I fought him off and things ended well—considering." Peter reached over to stroke Neal's cheek. "I'm fine," he said with a light laugh. "I haven't had nightmares or those feelings of impending death or torment. We've been having sex almost regularly. All good things."

Peter's expression softened. "You have been doing a hell of a lot better since we put Fowler away." Neal smiled when Peter started to stroke his hair. "I'm glad things are turning around for you, honey. I really am. You deserve to feel safe and happy."

"And I do," he said sincerely. "I can go to work and read cases like this and be able to work on them without the slightest hint of panic." He'd omit the details that would contradict that if they were brought up regarding his interrogation with Jenkins. "I can take insults hurled at me from Fowler because he's in a prison cell and I'm _free._" He shook his head. "I don't have to worry about any of them. Adler's been away for a while—Craig shorter than that, and Fowler recently, but they're all away nonetheless. I can't think of anyone else who'd want to hurt me the way they did, Peter."

Neal leaned forward and kissed Peter slowly, opening his mouth for Peter. Peter wanted to talk, but he recognized when Neal wanted a moment to break away from the conversation. He respected Neal's need to stop talking about certain things now. "I love you," he whispered against Neal's lips when they parted.

The younger man sucked on Peter's lower lip for a moment. "Not as much as I love you, babe."

Peter smiled, kissing Neal again. He felt like they were teenagers, making out in the school parking lot well into the evening in a _car._ Neal had done this too many times for him to count, but Neal was the first time Peter kissed anyone like this. Peter heard Neal's seatbelt unbuckle and then felt his own do the same. "Neal?" he breathed.

"Backseat."

Peter's eyes widened slightly as he realized what Neal was asking for. "Are you—?"

Neal nodded. "Yes. I want this."

After a few moments of careful consideration and staring at his lover, Peter conceded and they got out of the car. Peter turned it off and set the keys down on the floor in the back, locking the doors. Neal instantly wiggled his way down the seat to lay on his back, his knees bent slightly. Peter's heart beat faster as he took in the sight. Neal's hair fell around his face in such a beautiful way, his eyes full of passion, and a smile on his lips. Peter crawled on top of him, kissing Neal. The younger man threw his arms around Peter's neck, drawing him in.

He unbuckled Neal's belt while Neal fumbled to do the same after struggling to get his arms between their bodies. Their belts ended up on the floor of the car, followed by their socks and shoes, and then their pants. Neal pulled Peter's shirt off and smiled wider as soon as his fiancé was completely naked. Peter fumbled with Neal's button-up shirt, but he did get it off. Neal slid their underwear off while Peter kissed his neck. Peter started rubbing himself against Neal slowly, agonizingly slow. Peter laughed when his hand kept sliding over the side of the seat and Neal couldn't help but do the same.

Neal sucked on Peter's fingers, staring at Peter with eyes that could seduce _anyone._ "Neal," Peter gasped, pulling his fingers out of Neal's mouth after suddenly realizing that they didn't have condoms in the car. "We can't." Neal looked confused before he came to the same realization, throwing his head back to mutter 'damn' under his breath. He could feel Neal's muscles vibrating under him and the waves of sexual tension were rolling off of Neal. Peter pressed his body against Neal's, rubbing their hard lengths against each other. The friction made Neal shudder, his lips parting in a silent, pleased gasp. Peter sucked on Neal's neck, mouthing the skin from his jaw to his collarbone.

Neal's phone began to ring, screeching at an annoyingly loud pitch. They both cringed and Neal reached for his pants, fumbling with the piece of clothing to find his pocket and pull his phone out. "It's Mike," he said, sounding worried. He answered, resting his head on the backseat with Peter hovering above him. "Mike?"

"_Neal, um, I think something's wrong with Moz._"

His brows furrowed and Peter gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated. "_He was reading some stuff on your laptop and then he started talking to himself and curled up on the couch. He hasn't been responding to me or Nick. I don't know what to do._"

Neal couldn't think of anything that would get such a reaction out of Mozzie. He didn't have anything like that on his laptop. "Okay. Keep an eye on him. Peter and I will be home soon." Mike made a sad sound and Neal added, "I'm sure he's fine. Thanks for calling, Mike. I'll check on him as soon as I get there."

They ended the call and Peter asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure. He said Moz is acting strange." Peter nodded, shifting himself in the seat to start dressing himself. Neal started doing the same. "Once I figure out what's going on with him, we'll get a couple condoms and have at it. Sound good to you?"

Peter chuckled, pecking Neal's lips. "Of course, darling."

The drive back home was quick. Neal unlocked the door to the apartment and went in, turning to his left to find Mozzie curled into himself on the couch like Mike described. "Moz?" he started, concerned as he moved around the couch. "Mozzie, hey." He knelt in front of his best friend, reaching over to rub Mozzie's arm.

"I started thinking about them again," he said quietly, staring at his best friend in despair.

Neal frowned, but nodded in understanding. "You saw the adoption website I was looking at," he said. Mozzie looked away from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Moz."

"You're not at fault for my lack of parental adoration," he muttered. "Nor are you at fault for my current lack of adoration from a potential...soulmate. I believe that's what you simple lovers call it."

Neal lifted himself to sit on the couch when Mozzie sat up. "Buddy, you know I love you," he whispered. "You were my family when I came to New York. I was a dumb kid and all alone, but you took me under your wing." Mozzie leaned against Neal and Neal slung an arm over the smaller man's shoulders. "You've been here for me through a _lot_ and you know I'll be here if you need me, too—even when you don't need me, I'll be here." He kissed Mozzie's temple, smiling sadly. "You're my big brother," he whispered. "They lost the opportunity to raise a sweet, sarcastic man who's fallen in love with conspiracy theories and committed too many crimes to keep track of." He hugged Mozzie. "It was their loss, Moz."

"You always say that."

The younger man gave his best friend a soft smile. "You'd think by now that you'd realize I mean it every time," he said gently.

Peter tucked Nicky and Mike in, making sure they were comfortable while Neal comforted Mozzie. When he headed for the bedroom to jump Neal's bones, he saw Mozzie lying on the couch and his libido lost a bit of its fire. Neal was sitting on the bed bare-chested with his reading glasses on, a good book in his hands. He looked up when Peter neared the bed. "He doing all right?" Peter asked, nodding towards Mozzie.

"Yeah. He just needed to vent, I think."

Peter climbed onto the bed over Neal and took the book and put Neal's bookmark in before shutting it and setting it aside, loving the way Neal chuckled. He laid on his back and held Neal on top of him, smiling at his fiancé. "You're a sweetheart," Peter whispered, stroking Neal's hair.

He shrugged. "He's my best friend. He's done a lot for me and I owe him. Besides, he was there for me when I was down about my lack of family—prior to you and Nicky. I'm happy to return the favor when he's in the same mood." Neal rubbed Peter's jaw slowly, his fingers gliding over Peter's skin with feather-light touches. "He's an orphan," Neal confided. "He never got to know his parents the way I got to know my mom. We pretty much supported each other once he started taking care of me."

"When did you meet him?"

"I was five months away from turning eighteen. I…never finished high school. Mozzie was gracious enough to help me get a GED." Peter nodded. "He knew I was a mess when he found me. It was one of those chance meetings. I was trying to find food in the…" He looked embarrassed. "…trash outside of a restaurant." His face heated up and Peter rubbed his thumbs over Neal's cheeks. He wasn't judging Neal and never would. "It was a restaurant he frequently went to and he caught me. I was terrified that he'd get the police involved and send me to a foster care facility or something. He surprised me by taking me to one of his safe houses." Neal smiled. "He bought me clothes, fed me, and paid for my GED. I've paid him back since then, but he kept me alive when I was on the brink of giving up and letting myself fade into nothing. If not for him, I'd probably still be prowling the streets turning tricks."

Peter looked stunned by that. "You—?"

"I'm not proud of what I became after leaving home," he muttered. "I'll tell you all about my street days someday when I think I can talk about it without feeling like an idiot." Peter nodded. "Moz knows about it. He asked me if that's what I'd been doing and I thought he was asking me to…you know…" Again, Peter nodded. "He was the first real family I had once I came here. I love him more than words can possibly explain," he admitted. "Not to say that I don't love you in the same way, but Mozzie put me back on my feet."

"Remind me to thank him later for that," Peter murmured, kissing Neal. "I'm glad you two had each other during some really hard times." He glanced over at the balding man before returning his gaze to Neal. "As much as I'd like to continue this conversation, we both have an early morning tomorrow."

Neal made a small moaning sound, lowering his head to lay on the pillow beside Peter's. "Good night, Peter," he whispered, closing his eyes.

Peter stroked Neal's hair gently, shutting his own eyes. "Good night, my Neal."


	44. Chapter 44

Neal fidgeted on Elizabeth's couch. He asked her if he could come over, but now he felt utterly ridiculous for doing so. "I, uh, came to talk about wedding stuff," he finally admitted.

She smiled, delighted. "You've been engaged for almost four months now, sweetheart. I've been waiting to hear _something!_"

He chuckled, giving her a wry smile. "Peter hasn't been sure about any of the finer details. He refers to me when he does though." He sat forward, looking at her directly. "I'm not here to discuss those details. I actually came to ask a question." She nodded and gave him a patient look despite feeling absolutely impatient to hear it. "Will you be my maid of honor?" he asked tentatively. "I know we're both men, but I—"

She looked floored and he cut himself off from continuing rambling on nervously. She threw herself across the couch and crashed against him, hugging him tightly. "I'd be honored, sweetheart!" she said enthusiastically. He heaved a sigh of relief, returning the hug. "Oh, God," she said as she pulled away from him, "I will make sure you have the most memorable wedding of all time!" He laughed, smiling softly at her. "You are in excellent hands, my dear." She patted his cheek gently, giggling. "Because you seem to have identified yourself as the current bachelorette, will I be hosting a bridal party?"

"That's up to you, El. I don't want you thinking you have to do everything for me. I'm perfectly content with getting some wine and sitting around the apartment with a few friends." She raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him. "Or, uh, I guess we can have a party," he amended. "Nothing too big though, please."

She chuckled. "Give me a list of all your girlfriends and I'll have invites sent to them, dear. Do you know if Peter is having a bachelor party?"

"He hasn't said a whole lot about it. I'm not sure if he's decided on a best man yet, either." He smiled at her. "He told me he definitely doesn't want strippers—male strippers anyway. If the guys give him some female strippers, he'll probably just text me through it."

She burst into laughter. "Oh, that poor man. Once he's decided on his best man, please tell me who it is so we can coordinate more of the wedding plans together." Neal nodded. "Neal, I hope you know how much I appreciate you asking me to be your maid of honor. That means a _lot_ to me, especially since I'm Peter's ex-wife."

He waved her worry off. "You're one of his best friends. I wouldn't have it any other way, honestly." She leaned closer and kissed his cheek. "Besides, I respect and adore you, El," he added, giving her a shy smile.

•◊•

"How'd things go with El?" Peter asked later that night. He was massaging Neal's back while the younger man laid on his stomach on their bed.

"Very well. I didn't really doubt the outcome, but I still loved that she said yes." Peter smiled down at him, eliciting a moan from his young lover when he rubbed a particularly tight muscle. "We're just going to have a small wedding, right? Family and friends?"

Peter leaned down to plant a kiss between his shoulder blades. "I'm fine with that. We don't need something lavish. That's not us." Neal's eyes flickered over to the nightstand, to Peter's framed pictures of him and Nicky. "I don't think Cara will be able to make it in with the babies. My nieces will be coming though. They're excited."

Neal exhaled heavily as he pushed himself up a bit, enough to turn over to lay on his back and stare up at Peter. The older man didn't hesitate to rub Neal's chest slowly, smiling down at him. "One of the first things your sister said to me when I met her was 'welcome to the Burke family.' It was one of those things that meant a little at the time, but mean more now."

"I'm sure she'll try her damnedest to make it to the wedding. She likes you a lot, hon. She liked El, but not as much as you. I can tell you that right now." Peter laughed lightly. "My whole family likes you. Mom and dad adore you and treat you like their own son. I love that, Neal. I love that they love you."

The younger man slid his hands up Peter's arms. "Think about how much that means to you," he said quietly, "and then look at my lack of family and imagine how much that means to _me._" Peter nodded, leaning forward to kiss Neal. "I felt like a Burke then and I'll actually be one sometime in the near future."

Peter rolled off of him and plopped down onto the bed beside him. "Neal Burke," Peter whispered. "I like it."

"Better than Peter Caffrey." Peter chuckled at the face Neal made. "Hell, it's better than Peter Bennett, too. I'll have to change my name on everything and signing 'Neal George Burke' is going to make me smile every time." Peter smiled, stroking Neal's collarbone. "Nicolas James Burke," Neal added quietly. "I even like how his name sounds with your last name."

"Neal, thank you," Peter said softly, looking at Neal with all of the adoration and affection he could muster.

Neal was slightly confused. He hadn't done anything as far as he knew. Peter was the one who proposed after all. "Why are you thanking me?"

Peter took the opportunity to pull Neal onto his chest. Neal's hands planted on the pillow on either side of Peter's head, his legs spreading over Peter's body. "Because you said yes. You're everything to me and you want to be my husband." Neal smiled, kissing Peter's nose. "You're willing to change your name and wear a ring that essentially shows that you belong to me. Thank you for that, honey. Thank you for giving your heart to me."

"You have my heart, my soul, my mind, and my body," Neal whispered. "I gave myself to you willingly and you've given me all the incentive I need to say yes to marriage by giving me all of you as well."

They talked for a little while longer, but eventually ended up falling asleep. Peter held Neal on top of him, his hands resting on top of Neal's on the bed, Neal's head on Peter's chest with his ear just above Peter's heart. Mozzie came over in the middle of the night and found them like that and secretly took a picture of them on his phone. Before Peter, Mozzie had come over some times during the night and found Neal lying with some man in bed and he never looked nearly as comfortable or peaceful as he did now. He treasured moments like this, moments where Neal was truly happy.

•◊•

Neal came into work a little later than Peter did, but he'd dropped Peter off at the normal time. Neal was meeting with an adoption agency to get some information on how to go about adopting a child. Until they were married, Neal was looking into it with social workers on his own, but he made sure Peter was aware of everything he'd been told. The woman Neal had been in contact with over the last couple of weeks told him that a young woman was giving up her child after discovering she was pregnant. She'd asked if he didn't mind waiting a few months to meet the mother so he could have the opportunity to adopt that child once it was born.

He definitely didn't mind the wait. He was happy to have his name put on the list. Their meeting today included the social worker giving Neal some more information about the mother that he requested. He was curious as to whether or not the mother had drug or alcohol problems or if she had any illnesses that might affect the child. He only wanted to know because he wanted to look up possible problems the child might have so he was aware of how to help him or her.

He'd be meeting with a few single mothers who were looking to give up their newborns as well. It was all really bizarre to him, listening to these mothers list the reasons they weren't keeping their children. It made him think about how Nicky could have ended up here, never having the opportunity to know his birth parents. He understood some of the reasons, but still found it strange. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that these people didn't want their children. He'd been distressed when he found out about Nicky, but he didn't like the idea of having his child grow up without a father like he did.

"How'd everything go?" Peter asked as Neal set his fedora on his desk and took his seat. "Pretty well. I thought about a lot of things today," he said, looking up at his fiancé. "I met other parents and we discussed their children. Some of them gave their kids up because the kid was diagnosed with some kind of problem and it kind of made me sick to think they were okay with that." Peter nodded, understanding what Neal meant. "If Nicky had autism or own syndrome or _any_ kind of problem, I couldn't even imagine giving him up."

Peter moved around the desk to rub Neal's shoulder. "That goes to show that you're an excellent parent, hon," Peter said quietly.

Neal nodded slowly. "I just… I love kids. When I was little, I had a friend with down syndrome. His name was Jerry and he always called me his best friend or his brother, brought me snacks from home, and said he loved me. I loved him like a brother because I didn't have one and it really pissed me off when people made fun of him. I protected him from the older kids who made fun of him because he looked and acted different." Peter sat on the edge of Neal's desk, listening to his lover. "I was getting beat up one day in fifth grade for standing up for him and Jerry was absolutely horrified. Before that moment, he was the sweetest kid I'd ever met. He went into this blind rage to protect me and we got into a lot of trouble. I'd been his friend since second grade and I never saw him again after he walked out of the principal's office with his mom."

"Did you ever try to find him again after that?" Peter asked gently. Neal sighed and leaned forward on his desk. "I'll take that as a no?"

"He left around the same time my mom started dating Adler." Peter understood then that Neal wouldn't have had the chance to look him up because his mother had been too infatuated with her boyfriend to pay much attention to her own son, let alone address his worries and needs. "I thought about him a little a few years after I met Mozzie, so I looked him up. As it turns out, he ended up in prison," Neal said sadly. "He was abusive and the other inmates ended up killing him. One of them made a statement about him always asking for some kid named 'Neal' to be brought to him and have the kid come with some cookies. It really broke my heart to read that."

Peter's lips parted slightly. "I'm sorry, honey."

Neal looked up at him, giving him a sad smile. "It hurt to see where he'd ended up. He was so nice to me when everyone else was cruel to him. He's the reason I'd never give up my own kid if they'd been born with an issue." Peter rested his hand atop Neal's, squeezing his fingers gently. "I met a kid with the same issue on the streets once and he was nothing like Jerry. He was angry and resentful and hated everyone because his parents gave him up." Neal bowed his head, looking at his and Peter's intertwined fingers. "I…I'd hate myself if I did something like that to my own baby. Adopted or born of my own DNA, I'd never turn a kid like that away and those parents were doing just that."

"I understand how close to home that hit you," Peter said gently. "I never knew about your friend, but I knew what kind of parent you were when I met you and it made me love you all the more. You weren't needlessly cruel and didn't ignore your kid's needs. You love Nicky more than you love yourself and I know firsthand that you'd do anything for him."

The younger man nodded. "I think you need to go with me next time or I'll end up applying to adopt every single kid I hear about," he said with a hint of amusement in his tone. "Considering I had a really poor experience with my own family growing up, I'm really a family-oriented guy."

Peter kissed Neal's hair. "That, you certainly are, my love."

"Good morning," Diana said as she came through the glass doors. Neal and Peter both returned the greeting as she neared them. "How was your weekend?"

Neal looked up at Peter and smiled. "Really good," he answered. He looked at Diana and asked, "How was yours?"

She shrugged. "El was a gleeful whirlwind thanks to a certain groom…"

Neal chuckled. "Oh, I know. She kept sending me text messages to ask for updates on things I haven't even given much thought to as well as ideas she has. I knew she'd help me make the right decisions, but damn."

Peter ruffled Neal's hair, making the younger man's lower lip jut out in an attempt to look like he was pouting. "We've got work to do, brat," Peter said endearingly. "Your hair looks better when it's messier anyway, hon," he added with a wink. He grinned as Peter headed back up to his office to work on some reports.

Diana's smile fell as soon as he was gone and Neal looked up, concerned. "I have a case for you," she said quietly, "but I don't know if you'd feel up to…going through with it." He was confused now, crossing his arms on his desk. She set the file down on the desk and opened it up. He skimmed it and understood why she was acting so cautious about it. "You'd have to act and dress like a…prostitute to get his attention. I felt like you might be uncomfortable by forcibly being placed in that situation, so I'm asking you in advance if you want to step down and have me pass the case on to another agent."

He gave it some serious thought. He really didn't want his personal life to extend into his work. He felt like he could do it and this would be the perfect opportunity to prove he was recovering in case anyone doubted him, which was plausible considering the other agents were nervous to discuss particular topics with him. "If I do this, is Peter going to know about it?"

"Do you want him to?"

He glanced in Peter's direction, watching his lover work diligently. "No," he finally said. "I'll do it, but I don't want him to know until I submit my report to him." She nodded though she didn't understand why Neal wouldn't want Peter to be aware. If Neal snapped, Peter could be there to support him. On the flipside, he wouldn't be able to do that if he didn't know to begin with. He slid the file closer and observed it more closely this time.

"Are you sure you can do this, Caffrey?"

His shoulders tensed and she noticed, immediately apologetic for slighting him—and directly to his face at that. He met her eyes and nodded. "Yes. And the fact that you had to ask me that makes it a definitive yes."

She frowned. "I didn't mean to—" He waved off the rest of her apology. It bothered him for all of two seconds, so he didn't want her to feel sorry. "This op might take more than a day or two to complete, Caffrey. You need to get his attention, play with him a bit to keep him interested, and then get the information out of him." Neal made a distressed face and she realized then that she needed to make one thing clear. "You don't have to do anything sexually," she assured him. "It's just a cover. We'll be sending in agents to 'occupy' you. They'll make it look convincing."

"How do you know it won't end up _being_ convincing?" he asked tentatively.

She rested a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small smile. "I'm going to hear everything going on through your wire. I've handpicked the agents who will be sitting in a room with you for an hour at a time. None of them will take advantage of you, Neal. If anybody in there tries to hurt you, I'll break their arms and legs. Nobody's going to mess with you if I have anything to say about it."

Because she'd used his first name rather than his surname, he took a little comfort in her reassurance. "All right. I trust you, Di."

The smile she flashed at him was contagious and he couldn't help smiling back. "We'll leave whenever you're ready, Caffrey. I have to get your outfit and equipment ready." Before walking away, she threw, "And bring your hat," over her shoulder.

She went to retrieve his clothing and he sat in his seat uneasily for a moment. He wouldn't tell Peter about this for as long as he could manage. If this dragged on for a few days, he'd have a harder time keeping it a secret. He didn't like keeping things from Peter. Forcing himself to relax, he stood up and headed up to Peter's office. He knocked on the door and Peter glanced up. "Hey, hon."

"Hey, love," Neal said in response, walking in. He stopped in front of the desk and finally mustered up the courage to speak. "I'm heading out for a case. It might keep me until dinnertime and there's a very minimal chance that I'll get hurt, so you don't need to worry. If you're able to pick Nicky up and make dinner for him, I'd love you just a little more than I do right now." He added a teasing smile to hide his uneasiness.

Peter nodded. "Sure thing, hon. Will you need me to pick you up?"

He hadn't considered that. "Um, probably. I'll text you when I'm ready to come home?"

The older man smiled endearingly at Neal, which made him feel really guilty. "I'll be watching for your text then, hon." He stood up and moved around the desk, resting his hands on Neal's hips. He figured Neal would need a little affection before heading out, bullpen be damned. He rubbed Neal's hips as he leaned closer and kissed the younger man. Neal's hands were flush against Peter's chest and his eyes closed. When they parted, Peter smiled at him. "I love you, Neal."

"I love you, too, Peter," he said, his heart pounding in his chest. He pecked Peter's lips once more before adding, "All right. I'll see you when you pick me up."

"See you then," Peter said softly. Neal forced himself to smile.

He met Diana for his outfit, which made him raise an eyebrow. "I'm wearing this skimpy ass thing?"

She laughed. "Would you rather wear nothing at all?"He sighed and started to undress and redress. She didn't mind and he didn't care. He trusted Diana as much as he trusted Peter. She held out a collar before he put his skin tight shirt on. He raised his eyebrow again and she sighed. "I know you don't like it, but it's got the microphone and recorder in it." He nodded and slipped it on, disturbed by the tightness around his throat. He pulled what could pass very poorly for as a shirt on. It was black, had no sleeves, and cut off with frayed fabric just above his belly button. His pants were skin tight—tight enough to have Diana grab his ass to help him adjust them. His boots were interesting and he liked it the most out of everything else he had to wear. "Damn," Diana whispered after stepping back. "No offense, but you look really hot."

He rolled his eyes. This was a thing between them that he liked. They could tease each other this way and know there were no underlying feelings there. Diana loves El and he loves Peter. They felt nothing for each other and that's why he let Diana have a lot of leeway when it came to personal things, such as his pants issue just a few minutes earlier. "Peter would probably think so, too."

She grinned and before he realized what was happening she'd snapped a picture of him on her phone. His eyes widened and his lips parted. "Relax. I'll show it to Peter after you tell him about this, if he's not pissed at you." She messed with his hair and he sighed.

A moment later, he nearly panicked. "How am I going to get past Peter in this? He checks the security cameras in the building before heading home sometimes and it'll be just my luck to have him look at it tonight."

She picked his hat up and set it on his head for him, then she pulled a black trench coat out of the pile of clothing she'd had to sort through. "Figured this might fit you. And it'd compliment all of the other black articles of clothing you're wearing." He nodded, pulling it on. He thought they were going to head out, but she put a hand on his chest to halt him. "How do you feel about makeup?"

He looked horrified. "If you told me I'd have to look like a drag queen, I never would've—"

"Just eyeliner!" she added quickly. "Just eyeliner, Neal. You don't need eye shadow or mascara or any of that other bullshit stuff El likes to mask her face with."He shrugged and she pulled the black eyeliner out. He would've put it on himself, but there were no mirrors in the room, so she did it for him. Once she was done, she looked him over again. "If I were straight, I'd definitely fuck you," she teased.

"Uh huh. I highly doubt that since I'm _so_ not your type. Gay or straight, I'd _never_ be boyfriend material for you, Di." She shrugged and started changing into casual clothes. He zipped her dress for her and chuckled when she turned around. "Are you my pimp?" he asked, amused.

She slid her hands over his chest in a mock-seductive manner. "You bet your sexy ass I am," she said, winking. "Wow. I didn't think I'd have this much fun with you and we haven't even gotten to the brothel yet."

He smiled. "It is fun," he agreed. "I didn't think it would be, but I'm glad you're my partner on this one. Peter would probably have a stroke from worrying about me."

They headed out without being scrutinized, something he was grateful for. She drove him up to the brothel that wasn't very well known to the common citizen. He didn't even recall hearing about it at any point and he's lived in New York for nearly two decades.

When they were outside the brothel, she gave him a nervous look. He knew she was going to say something he didn't like. "Are you okay if I add a chain to the collar? Just for now?"

He shrugged. "As long as you're the only one to hold it, I guess it's fine." She nodded, reaching into the backseat. He lifted his chin and she attached it surprisingly quick. "Please tell me I don't have to crawl," he said as they got out of the car. She grabbed his chain and gently tugged on it, testing her hold on him.

"As far as I know, you don't have to crawl. I'm supposed to make you look mysterious, yet susceptible to submission, which is why I've got the chain on you. The hat and trench coat give off the mysterious aura."

He nodded, understanding. "All right, so, we go inside and you set me up with one of our agents, then they take me up to a room and babysit me for an hour?"

"Pretty much. I'll be in the van until you leave. I want you to give the collar back to me beforehand, just so Peter doesn't see it."

"Sounds fine." She looked reluctant for a moment before asking for his engagement ring. He'd gotten so used to wearing it that it felt like it was part of him now. He hesitantly took it off and put it in her hand. "I feel strange without it." She understood and started to lead him inside where the smell of sex hit him immediately. "God damn," he muttered. She gave him a brief apologetic look before turning into an absolute badass. She dragged him to the counter where a man sat with a register.

The man looked him over and seemed to approve. "Name and sexual orientation, please?"

He looked at Neal, so Neal answered. "Nick Halden—homosexual." The man nodded, writing it down.

"All right, Nick. We've got plenty of men who'll take an interest in you, especially with those pretty eyes." Neal felt sick as the man's eyes traveled down his neck to the collar, his eyes lighting up at the sight of it. Diana opened the trench coat, exposing Neal to the man behind the counter. She had Neal step back and the man looked him over. "Your body will definitely win you some nice money," he said. "You're very physically fit and your cock is exactly what my clients will want to see. Judging by your front, I'm sure your ass is delicious."

Neal swallowed back bile, nodding silently. "I want him returned to me in the same state I'm giving him to you in," Diana said firmly. She looked at Neal critically before glaring at the other man. "If he so much as has a _scratch,_ I'll have your head." Neal was surprised by how menacing Diana sounded, but he definitely liked it. "I want assurance that he'll be taken care of."

"I'll make sure his occupants take good care of him," he said sincerely. "Any other conditions?"

She looked at Neal again. "Condoms." Neal knew she said that to satisfy the man behind the counter. He wouldn't be using any of those condoms with anyone tonight. She'd guaranteed that. "Condoms and plenty of lubricant. STDs would lower his value, so if he ends up with any, I'll know who didn't listen to my demands."

He nodded and got several condoms and bottles of lubricant for Neal, handing them to him. "I'll start you off with a ten grand payment. You'll get fifty percent of the profit regardless of whether or not you satisfy the man, but it can increase if you do well on a regular basis."

Diana removed his chain and patted his cheek gently. "You'll do just fine," she said to comfort him. He nodded, seeing the first of the agents heading over. He recognized the man as a probie, a _young_ probie. "I have ways of discovering if you've gone back on any of the conditions allowing me to provide you with his talents, so you better take everything I said to heart."

She left him alone after that and Kevin glanced at him nervously. "I couldn't help overhearing that he was worth ten grand," Kevin said. Neal gave him a playful smile to hide his nervousness and attempt to ease the kid's. He paid the man in cash and led Neal upstairs to the room they'd been booked. As soon as they shut the door, Neal knew the kid was much, much more uneasy than he was. He didn't think he'd have to get the 'occupant' to relax, but he didn't mind giving the kid a nice conversation to settle him down.


	45. Chapter 45

Neal sat across from Kevin on the disgusting bed. He managed to strike up an easy conversation about their kids since Kevin had a newborn daughter. Twenty minutes into their 'session,' Neal heard someone coming to the door. He quickly reacted and started bouncing on the bed, moaning like he did when he was with Peter. Kevin just looked at him, shocked, until there was a knock on the door. Kevin made small moaning sounds to mingle with Neal's and then the man was leaving. As soon as Neal figured he was out of earshot, he stopped bouncing and laughed.

"How are you so comfortable with this?" Kevin asked, awed.

"Because I can trust you," he admitted. "You don't make me feel uncomfortable. I haven't gotten the slightest hint from you that you want to do…stuff."

Kevin nodded quickly. "I'm straight," he stammered, "but I won't lie and say you're not attractive." Neal gave him a small smile. "Don't ever tell my girlfriend that I said that, please. She'd probably leave me if I admitted to hinting that I find a man attractive."

Neal chuckled. "No worries. My fiancé told me once or twice that I could make a straight man bicurious," he said. "I didn't think that was true until now." Kevin blushed heavily. "Hey, I won't tell your girlfriend. It's not like we're doing anything scandalous. The most we've done is jump on the bed."

"Your fiancé…" He glanced at Neal. "That's Agent Burke, right?" Neal nodded. "He must trust you a lot to let you come in here." As soon as Neal looked away, he knew that Peter wasn't informed of this. "Oh, I see."

The older man didn't feel like he had to defend himself, but he did anyway. "Peter would probably forbid me from doing the op unless he was the one to sit in the room with me." Kevin understood that. He'd feel the same way if his girlfriend were in this kind of situation. "He does trust me. He doesn't trust other people _with_ me, which I don't resent him for." Neal gave Kevin a guarded look. "Have you heard anything about me personally?" Kevin shook his head. "Okay, that's fine. I just have, ah, social problems—if you can call them that." He wasn't going to elaborate on that and Kevin didn't seem interested in pressing for more details.

Neal laid back on the bed, his hands folded on his stomach, knees bent. "Agent Caffrey?" He turned his attention to the younger man. "How were… How _are_ you allowed to date Agent Burke? I know he ranks higher than you, or at least he did when you both started the relationship. I didn't think he'd be allowed to…romance you because he's your superior."

"We kept it quiet for a little while, but everybody kind of assumed we were together when we came in and got really touchy with each other. Whether it was him resting a hand on my lower back or me putting my hand on his when we read a file together, we were obvious to everyone else when we thought we were being discrete." He chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. "Agent Hughes was really supportive of our relationship. He and Peter are close. They used to go out on dinner dates with their wives and they really hit it off."

"So he just…let you two date?"

Neal nodded. "He told us we could be open about it, but not open to the point where we're groping each other in close quarters or sneaking off during an op." Kevin was looking at Neal, listening intently to the older man. "We do make little gestures from time to time, but we're strictly professional when it comes to work. He'll tell me he loves me on the job, but we won't, like, stop and make out like lovesick teenagers."

Kevin laughed, which made Neal smile. "You guys sound like you've really balanced work and your relationship."

Neal took a moment to think about that and he had to agree. Their relationship and its ups and downs could easily have ruined the partnership they've built while working with the FBI. He could have potentially ruined a bond with his boss before anything even started and he was fortunate that Peter had a _huge_ heart and more than enough understanding. All this talk about Peter was making him wish he were home.

•◊•

"You've been pretty quiet since you came home," Peter said softly, glancing up at Neal. He was lying on his stomach while his lover was reading. "Everything all right?"

Neal looked down at him and gave him a small smile. "Yeah." Peter pushed himself up and Neal shut his book, setting it aside.

Peter started kissing Neal's jaw slowly, making the younger man close his eyes. He loved how Peter's lips felt against his skin. "How would you feel if I asked if you wanted to make love?" Peter asked, his voice barely a whisper. Neal opened his eyes slowly to look into Peter's eyes. The older man wasn't acting like he wanted to rip Neal's clothes off, but Neal knew Peter wanted to be _with_ him. He could hide his desires very well as Neal learned firsthand.

"I'd say let's do it," he replied. He took his reading glasses off and set them on the nightstand before flipping himself over to straddle Peter's hips. "Slow, please?"

Peter smiled, reaching up to caress Neal's cheeks. "Anything for you," he whispered.

They both stripped themselves and Neal trailed kisses down Peter's sternum. He trailed his fingers over the hard planes of Peter's chest, relishing in the fact that Peter was his. Peter's fingers combed through his hair, tugging every now and then. It never bothered Neal when Peter did that, but he seemed particularly rough this time.

Peter tugged harder and made Neal look at him. "Peter?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Peter shoved Neal off of him and pushed him down onto the mattress. Neal stared up at him as he hovered closely. He roughly kissed Neal's lips, his fingers scraping down Neal's arms. He didn't feel comfortable anymore, but his throat felt dry and he didn't want to stop Peter. He watched Peter spit in his hand and then his eyes followed the hand's movements. Peter was stroking himself, slicking himself with his own spit.

He kept his eyes locked onto Neal's, gripping Neal's chin to make him look directly at his face. The sudden pressure and invasion of his body made him gasp in pain. This was the first time Peter had totally disregarded everything Neal asked for. Peter didn't open him up nor did he put a condom on. He was terrified as he threw his arms around Peter's neck and held on for dear life as Peter rocked into him, his thrusts stronger and more painful each time.

Neal felt pathetic and utterly useless as he cried into Peter's neck, failing to understand why Peter was doing this to him. Peter was the one he trusted and loved with everything and he… He was doing exactly what Adler and Craig did to him.

He sobbed as Peter came inside of him and then he felt something against his forehead, distantly hearing a voice calling out his name.

He didn't open his eyes when Peter tried to wake him up. He didn't believe what just happened, but it _did_ happen. "Hon, wake up. Neal, it's just a dream." He shook his head, turning away from Peter's voice. His body felt like it was overheating and his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest. "Sweetheart, wake up." When his eyes finally opened, his vision was watery and he was still sobbing. Peter's hand was on his shoulder and he realized he was fully clothed. "Neal, hey," Peter said softly, rubbing Neal's arm. "Don't cry, sweetheart."

"You—You're just like them," Neal whispered bitterly. "How could you do that to me?" His voice cracked as he shut his eyes tightly, trying to curl into himself to stay away from Peter. "I _trusted_ you!"

Peter stared at Neal, absolutely confused and stunned. "Neal, I didn't do anything to you," he whispered. "You were asleep." Neal rolled out of bed, stumbling to get away. He nearly fell to the floor, but Peter caught him and steadied him. "You know I'd never hurt you," he said in Neal's ear. "I love you far too much to even consider it."

Neal glanced blearily around the room, realizing Peter was being honest with him. They were both dressed and he didn't feel any pain—unlike what he'd felt a few minutes ago. "I…was dreaming?" Peter kissed Neal's temple, wrapping his arms around the younger man's torso. "That was the worst nightmare ever," he whispered, blinking his tears away.

"You scared me," Peter admitted. "Honey, let me get you a drink." Neal nodded, walking himself over to the couch as Peter got him a glass of water. The younger man doubled over, holding his head up with his elbows atop his knees. Peter came back, kneeling in front of him. "I would _never_ do anything to hurt you like that," Peter reassured him as he helped Neal take a drink.

Neal rubbed his eyes, breathing erratically. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I…didn't mean to."

Peter shook his head, resting one hand on Neal's thigh. "Don't apologize, hon. It's okay. It really is." He set the glass of water down on the nearest table, lifting his other hand to weave his fingers through Neal's sweaty hair. He could see Neal's neck and face glistening in the moonlight and it made his stomach churn. He'd seen Neal fall apart before, but Neal looked lost and distant, like he didn't know what to believe. "Neal, I love you." He rubbed Neal's thigh gently, staring at his lover's face.

"I'm so fucked up," he muttered. Peter started to argue that there was nothing wrong with him and that infuriated Neal. "I just dreamt of you _raping_ me, Peter!" he cried out exasperatedly. Peter flinched and put a little distance between them. He knew that was what Neal dreamt, but he'd been trying to avoid saying it aloud. "_You._ You're the man I'm engaged to and I just saw you rape me. I felt you rape me. And you liked it."

Peter's entire body felt cold. "I would _never_ enjoy your pain," he said firmly. Neal looked away from him. "You… I don't know what brought this on, but you need to know that I didn't hurt you, Neal. I couldn't live with myself if I ever did that to you."

"You did in my mind."

"That's all it was," Peter said, his voice cracking. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, tears he didn't want to shed. "I'd never do that to you in reality. Neal, I'd rather end my life before even considering doing that to you," he whispered. "You're my fiancé. I don't want to lose you and I wouldn't do anything to lose your trust or your love—especially not _that._"

Neal was trembling and Peter tentatively took his hands. "I thought I was getting past this. I thought I was going to be okay."

Peter nodded. "You will be okay, Neal. You're working very hard to overcome this and I have faith in you." He squeezed Neal's hands gently. "This is a small setback, but you'll get past this. You know me, sweetheart. You know what kind of man I am and the kind of man I'm not. I'm not like them. You know that, right?"

"Of course I know that," Neal said angrily. "I'm not stupid," he hissed as he pushed himself off of the couch and stormed past Peter. The older man remained silent, unsure of how to fix the situation. Neal put one hand on his hip and held his forehead in the other, sighing heavily. Peter frowned, knowing Neal was stressed out. "I want to go back to bed. Did I piss you off?"

Peter's brows furrowed. "No, you didn't piss me off. Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm being a jackass and I want you to hold me," he responded as he turned to face Peter.

The older man extended his hand towards Neal, waiting patiently as Neal swallowed hard and stepped forward to take it. "I'd hold you regardless," he whispered once Neal was closer to him. "I love you and I'm sorry if I did or said something to…make you dream about me like that."

Neal shook his head, letting Peter lead him to the bed. "I don't want to talk anymore. Not right now anyway. I need to go back to sleep." Peter nodded and the two of them crawled back into bed, sitting beside each other awkwardly for a moment. When Neal looked up at Peter, Peter shifted and lowered himself to the bed, his eyes on Neal. He opened his arms for his lover, inviting him to lay against him.

He looked uncertain, but curled up against Peter, draping an arm over Peter's midsection. He closed his eyes and tried to make the dream and conversation nonexistent. Just as he was on the brink of sleep, he felt Peter's lips press tiny kisses against his eyelids and Peter whispered, "I love you more than life itself. I'm going to show you someday how much you really mean to me."

•◊•

Peter got up early the next morning and started cleaning up the bedroom. Their clothes were strewn across the room at random from nights when they were too tired to do much else but strip down to their underwear and cuddle until they fell asleep. He picked up a black shirt that looked extremely small or really tight. Cocking an eyebrow, he held it up in front of him. This definitely wasn't his. A moment later, his nose wrinkled at the smell of the shirt. _Sex._ It was definitely sex. He looked over at his sleeping fiancé. He really hoped this wasn't Neal's, but he couldn't figure out who else's it might be. Pursing his lips, he bunched the fabric into his hand and crossed the room. This wasn't Neal's journal. This was a case file. He could read it if he wanted to—especially since he's Neal's boss, technically.

He picked the folder up from the nightstand and opened it, skimming the details. He nearly dropped the folder upon reading '_prostitution_' and '_occupancy of clients in a brothel._' He looked up from the folder and stared at Neal in disbelief. How could he do this to _himself?_

Then it dawned on him that he'd cleared Diana for this case. She dragged Neal into it. After seeing this, he wondered if this was why Neal dreamt of him doing the one thing he swore he'd never do to Neal. He closed the folder and moved towards the bed, deciding whether or not he wanted to be angry at Neal. Neal lied to him when he said this case wasn't dangerous. Neal, if he read the description correctly, was using his body to draw the suspect in, which meant Neal was doing something sexual. He was sure of it, but he couldn't understand how Neal was all right with that.

He gently shook Neal. "Wake up, Neal." The younger man groaned and tried batting his hand away. "No. We need to talk right now."

Neal was partially alert when he heard that. He turned over to lay on his back, squinting up at his fiancé. "What time is it?" he asked sleepily.

"When were you going to tell me about this?" he asked, overriding Neal's question. He held the shirt up just in case Neal was oblivious at the moment, having just woken up.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "It's just a shirt."

Neal said it so nonchalantly that it _did_ piss him off. "Neal, this isn't just a shirt," he growled. "You went to a brothel. You had sex with another man." Neal's eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise. "This case wasn't meant for you. I assigned it to Diana. I gave you other cases to work on Neal. I thought Hughes might have given you something, but you lied _directly_ to my face yesterday."

"You're blowing this out of proportion," Neal said, fully alert now. "I didn't—"

Peter spoke over him. "I've been here for you through everything. I've asked you to spend the rest of your life with me as my husband because I love you." Neal was stunned into silence. "How could you do this? I trusted you, Neal, and you lied to me about your case. You said it wasn't dangerous."

"It wasn't, Peter. Please, believe—"

"This smells like sex," he said bluntly, throwing the shirt at Neal. "I bet everything else you wore last night does, too. Neal, I can't believe this."

Neal gaped at him. "Peter, I didn't have sex with anyone!" he cried out. "I swear I didn't. How could you possibly think I'd cheat on you?"

Peter threw his hands up and then tossed the folder at Neal, too. "You're young and beautiful, Neal. You're a great guy and anybody could fall in love with you. You're too good for me and I knew from the start that I didn't deserve you." He couldn't even look at Neal. "I wish you'd just told me you were unhappy. You didn't need to sell yourself to some random man in a brothel."

"Peter, I swear to you—"

"Just stop, Neal. I don't need to hear more lies."

Neal was silent, tears streaming down his face. The papers from the folder slid off of the bed and Neal made no move to retrieve them. "I wanted to make you proud of me," he whispered.

Peter turned to face him, staring at him in disbelief. "You think taking a case that involves some other man fucking you would make me _proud?_ Neal, I know you're smarter than that."

"You know what," he said, wiping his face with his left hand, "fuck you, Peter." He got up from the bed and took his engagement ring off. He stormed over to Peter, grabbed his hand and put the ring into his palm. "If you can't trust me, then fuck you." Peter was speechless. "Get out of my apartment. Go use one of the guest rooms. I don't want to see you right now."

"Neal, I don't know why you're mad at me. I didn't—"

"Fuck off, Peter!" he cried exasperatedly, his eyes wide and full of pain. "I don't want to be your husband if you think I'd fuck someone else while I'm with you. I thought we were stronger than this."

A small sniffle made both men look towards Nicky's room. The little boy was standing beside the door, holding onto it with tears in his eyes. "Poppa, don't leave," he whispered.

Neal and Peter looked at each other and Neal moved to grab his suit. He always put Nicky's feelings and needs before his own and Nicky wanted Peter. "I'll see you at work. The money for Nicky's lunch is in the nightstand drawer. Please give it to his teacher."

"Neal, don't—"

Neal grabbed his file, phone, shoes, hat, and suit and left the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Nicky ran to Peter, throwing his arms around him. He was crying and Peter felt numb. Now that he reflected on the argument, he realized he never gave Neal the chance to explain himself before jumping to conclusions. He knew Neal better than that. Neal would never cheat on him. "Is daddy going to leave us?"

Peter stroked Nicky's hair slowly, his own lips trembling. "I don't know." He knew he'd really fucked up and the proof of his fuck-up felt like it was burning in his palm.

•◊•

Peter went to work after dropping Nicky and Michael off at their schools. He'd been chewing the inside of his cheek since he started heading to the FBI building because he was extremely nervous and upset with himself.

Upon stepping out of the elevator and onto the twenty-first floor, he felt like he'd walked into his own personal hell. Pushing through the glass doors, he glanced to the right where Neal was sitting. Neal's fedora was angled so he wouldn't have to look at Peter and he was focusing on typing reports he owed Peter.

Diana and Jones looked uneasy as he stood awkwardly beside Neal's desk. Neal stopped typing and bitterly asked, "Can I help you, Agent Burke?" without even looking at him.

"Neal, I'm sorry. What I said was… I don't even know how to tell you how wrong and uncalled for it was." Neal still wouldn't look at him. "You know I love you."

Now he took the fedora off. "Oh, do I?" he asked, staring up at Peter with pained blue eyes. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't have said those things to me."

Peter realized they were getting unwanted attention and he didn't want to have this discussion with Neal in front of everyone. "Can we go into my office to continue this?" he asked gently.

"Sure. I'll bend over for you, too, if you'd like. After all, I'm only a fuck toy for men." He pushed himself out of his chair and walked through the bullpen to stand in Peter's office, waiting for him. Peter gaped at Neal's back, really wishing he hadn't accused Neal of something ridiculous.

"Boss, what the hell happened?" Diana asked, concerned.

He shook his head. "I think I lost my fiancé," he whispered before heading up to his office after Neal. He shut the door and tentatively moved closer to Neal. "I'm sorry, Neal. I was wrong. I should have known better." Neal grunted in response, crossing his arms over his chest. "Will you talk to me, please?"

"Why?" he growled. "You wouldn't let me talk to you before you started insulting me. You always told me I wasn't just a whore to you and then you accuse me of being just that." He glared at Peter, but the older man could see how much damage he'd done to his lover. "I didn't have sex with anyone. I sat in a room with Kevin Callohan for an hour. I didn't even see the mark in there, Peter, so nothing was gained from the 'session.' However, it seems like everything was lost because of it."

"I—"

He pointed down into the bullpen angrily. "Diana put a collar on me that recorded everything. If you want to listen to it, then ask her for it. If you really think I had sex with another man, then we're finished, Peter." Peter shook his head, trying to make sense of this. He knew this was his fault. He shouldn't have even started to fight with Neal over this. He was normally so good about listening to Neal and the one time he really needed Peter to listen was the time Peter accused him of cheating and gave him no opportunity to explain. "I love you, but what you said to me _hurt._ I didn't lie to you. I omitted parts of the truth because I knew you wouldn't want me doing this."

"Then why _are_ you doing this if you know I wouldn't approve?"

Neal was silent, his jaw clenching. "Because I'm an adult capable of making my own decisions without first consulting my _handler._"

Peter gaped at him. "I'm going to be your husband—"

"—were going to be my husband," Neal interjected. "I gave the ring back."

Peter nodded, feeling the ring in his pocket like an anchor. "I know I don't control you. I said things I shouldn't have said to you without thinking. Neal, I'm deeply sorry for accusing you."

Neal shrugged. "I guess it's better to find out that you don't trust me now than it would be to find out after we're married," he said quietly. "Thank you for enlightening me, Agent Burke."

"Don't do this," he pleaded. "I'll do anything to fix this and you know it. I don't want to lose you, Neal. I—"

Neal held his hand up. "You lost me the moment you woke me up this morning." His eyes were watering, but he made no move to rub his eyes and Peter had to refrain from reaching up to stroke Neal's cheeks and wipe the tears away. "Maybe this is for the best." He turned to leave and Peter was frozen. "Sorry for being an absolute failure," he whispered, opening the door and shutting it behind him.

Peter stared at Neal's back as he headed to his desk. He knew this wasn't how their relationship would end. It wasn't supposed to end like this. He loves Neal with all of his heart and knows Neal loves him just as much. He needed to fix this—soon. He needed to fix this before it was too late.


	46. Chapter 46

Peter went about his day as he normally did. The only exception was that his eyes kept slipping away from his computer screen to land on Neal. He found himself watching Neal's every move, almost as if Neal were his prey and he was the predator. At least until Neal vanished with a bunch of clothing that he took to the bathroom with him. He came back about five minutes later, dressed in _completely_ inappropriate clothing. His biceps and abdomen were exposed, the collar was around his neck, and his boots rose to his knees. His hair was a disaster and Peter's mind said it was styled to look like he'd just had sex.

He carried the trench coat down into the bullpen where he met Diana. Peter's lips parted when he saw that Neal was wearing eyeliner. If he didn't know better, he'd say Neal was definitely a male prostitute. Although, he _did_ say that just a few hours earlier. Peter just watched as Neal listened to what Diana was telling him intently and it made him wish Neal was looking at _him._

He rose from his chair and walked straight out of his office, descending the stairs to step into the bullpen. Neal still wouldn't look at him, but Peter could see that Neal saw him in his peripheral vision. Neal's eyes drifted away from Diana and focused on an empty space in the corner. That was when Diana turned around and gave Peter a look of surprise. "Boss, I, uh…" She looked guilty, as if she'd gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"We're heading out," Neal said firmly. When his eyes met Peter's, he was still visibly upset. "Gonna go give my body to some random men. I do like getting fucked after all," he said, lowering his voice.

"Neal," Peter whispered exasperatedly.

Neal took a step back, dramatically raising his hands in an innocent gesture. "Oh, forgive me, Agent Burke. I _totally_ didn't mean to offend you with the implication of your own words." He dropped his hands, turning to leave. It was obvious that he didn't want to be around Peter right now.

Peter, despite his better judgment, reached out and grabbed Neal's wrist. The younger man froze, tensed, and slowly turned to look at Peter. If looks could kill, Neal's would have struck Peter down in an instant. "Neal, I love you," Peter whispered, frowning.

"Let _go_ of me."

Peter's heart clenched. He knew there was a double meaning to that and it hurt. "I don't want to."

Neal's hands balled up into fists. He pulled his wrist out of Peter's grip. "I have Mozzie moving my things into one of the guestrooms. Nick wants to be with you, so I'm going to let him be with you."

"Stop this, please," Peter pleaded. "I love you and so does Nick. Neither of us wants you to leave."

The younger man glowered at him. "I have work I need to do. Diana already said she'll take me home, so don't wait up for a text message." Peter stared at him silently. "Have a nice day, Agent Burke."

With that said, he stormed out. Diana was frowning after him. She knew he'd hold the elevator for her. "Peter, I'm so sorry. I didn't know things would get this bad." She was looking at him apologetically. "I never meant to destroy your relationship. You two were great together and I'm so sorry for coming between you."

Peter shook his head. "I'll see him tonight. I'll try to fix this before he actually _leaves._" Diana nodded. "Nicky asked me not to leave this morning while we were fighting and that pissed Neal off. I'm not sure if he was just pissed at Nicky for that brief moment or if he was hurt." He glanced in the direction of the elevator. "Take care of him, please. Tell him I said good luck."

•◊•

Peter knew Neal was home the moment he heard Neal almost walk into the apartment. He quickly retreated seconds after twisting the doorknob and that made Peter's gut twist. Michael didn't know what to do and Nicky was just upset. He asked Peter to bring Neal back and he'd promised the little boy he'd try.

He leapt off of the bed and went to the door. He opened it and shut it behind him, heading down to the second floor. He went off to the left and crossed through one room before standing outside of the door belonging to what he hoped was Neal's _temporary_ room. He knocked on the door and got an immediate, "Peter, fuck off."

Something was wrong and Peter knew it didn't have to do with them anymore. "Can I come in?" he asked quietly.

"I'm pretty sure 'fuck off' implies '_no,_ you cannot come in.'"

He heard Neal hiss. He pushed the door open and found Neal cleaning blood off of himself. "What the hell happened to you?" Neal's lips were bloody, his cheek was bruising, and it looked like his arm and stomach were gushing blood. He frantically moved across the room, grabbing another one of the towels Neal had on the bed and started pressing it against Neal's skin.

Neal's breath shook with his pain. "The mark took the agent's place and I didn't know it. This is his attempt to interrogate me." Peter knelt beside the bed, noticing that there was blood soaking through Neal's pants. "I'm fine. Diana got to me before he killed me, fortunately."

"You call bleeding like a God damn waterfall _fine?_ Neal, holy shit." He stood up quickly and pulled Neal up. When Neal protested, he said, "You're going to get in the shower," he commanded. Neal didn't put up much of a fight as Peter practically carried him into the second floor bathroom.

The younger man panted while he stripped himself as Peter turned the water on and adjusted its temperature. Peter's seen him naked, so he didn't feel the need to act modest. Relationship issues or not, he was fine with being naked in front of Peter. "Everything hurts," he admitted.

"I can't believe Diana left you like this. What the hell was she—?"

"I walked home. She was…busy."

Peter stared at him in disbelief. "You walked home like this?" Neal nodded and Peter tried not to imagine how much pain Neal was in after walking quite the distance from the brothel back to June's house. "Come here." He held his arms out and Neal leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Peter's neck. Peter's arms circled his torso and he helped Neal into the shower, getting in with him as well. Neal's knees nearly buckled when he watched the water change from clear to crimson. He was glad to have Peter holding him upright. He breathed against Peter's neck, letting the older man rub his skin gently with a washcloth. "Jesus," he whispered. "Neal, what the hell did he do to you? _How_ did he do this?"

Neal shuddered against Peter. "He shoved me against a wall and started choking me." Peter briefly glanced at Neal's neck and saw some bruising there as well. "I managed to get him off of me, then he tackled me to the floor where we struggled—obviously—and he pulled a pocketknife out."

The older man held Neal tightly, his own breathing uneven. Neal could have been killed if not for Diana or he'd have killed himself from all of the blood loss if Peter hadn't gone to see him. Despite their fight that morning, he couldn't imagine losing Neal. After washing sweat, grime, and blood off of Neal's body, he turned the water off and helped Neal out. They were both soaking wet, but Peter didn't care. He gave Neal a towel to wrap around his waist and helped Neal sit down on the toilet seat. "I'm going to bandage the wounds," he said, eyeing the blood seeping out at a rather quick pace. He frantically knelt in front of the sink's lower cabinet and opened it, pulling gauze off of the small shelf. He mentally thanked June for stocking all of the bathrooms with it.

Peter started wrapping Neal's stomach first, biting his lip as Neal whimpered. Bandaging his arm wasn't as bad, but it still bothered Peter. He knelt in front of Neal and slid the towel up Neal's body just enough to bandage his thigh. Once Neal's bloody wounds were attended to, he met Neal's eyes. Neal was frowning at him. Peter could see the uncertainty in his eyes and knew Neal was debating on whether or not he should discuss their fight. Neal wanted to fix this just as much as Peter did, but he was still hurt by Peter's insults and he wanted Peter to know that. "Thank you," Neal whispered, looking away.

"I'd do anything for you," Peter said softly, staring at Neal's face. When Neal's eyes flickered back to Peter's face, Peter gave him a small smile. Moments later, it faltered. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, Neal, and—"

"You really don't," he said sadly.

Peter nodded, resting his hand on Neal's right knee. "I want you to know I'm truly sorry," he said sincerely, making sure he kept eye contact with Neal. "I should have known better. I know you and I accused you of things I _know_ you'd never do and I'm sorry for that." Neal bowed his head slightly, which provoked Peter. He stroked Neal's bruised cheek gently, making sure he wasn't pressing down hard enough to actually cause Neal pain. "I had no right to say those things to you."

"It really hurt," Neal whispered, "to know that you didn't trust me. I've never tried to do anything to lose your trust. No, I wasn't completely honest about this case, but, Peter…" He lifted his head enough to look at Peter solemnly. "I've given you all that I am. You know every single flaw I possess and you're my confidant when it comes to things I'm too scared to talk to anyone else about." He paused for a moment. "I trusted you enough to let you inside my head when I wanted to lock myself away from everyone. You're the only person I can talk to who doesn't look at me like I'm insane or pity me because I 'went through a traumatic experience.' I don't need to hear those bullshit clichés. You don't give me bullshit." He tentatively leaned into Peter's palm. "You look at me with real passion and treat me like a normal human being—or at least, you did before."

Peter cautiously leaned closer to Neal. When Neal made no move to pull away, he gently pressed his lips against Neal's semi-bloody lips, kissing him softly. Neal's lips moved slowly against his in response. Peter slid his mouth away from Neal's a few moments later. "It meant a lot to have you put so much trust in me. I've given you several reasons to _not_ trust me, yet you still do. I should have trusted you rather than doubted you." He nuzzled his nose against Neal's, his eyes looking into Neal's before Neal closed them. "I love you so much, Neal, and I'm sorry that I threw that away over something stupid. You didn't do anything _wrong,_ but… I wish you'd been upfront with me instead of going behind my back."

"If there's a next time, I'll tell you from the start," he whispered. His eyes opened slowly and he put a little distance between their faces. "I don't want to leave you, Peter. I really don't, but I can't let you imply that I'm a whore or a—"

"I will _never_ say that to you again," Peter said firmly. "That is _far_ from what you are, Neal." Neal nodded slowly, believing Peter. "You could've walked away from me forever and I'd know it was all my fault. You tried to explain and I…didn't let you. I'm sorry for presuming that you'd…you know." He shook his head, sighing. "Of all the idiotic things I've said to you over the course of the last two years, I'm fairly certain this was the _most_ idiotic."

Neal smiled weakly. "Yeah, I guess." He leaned forward and pecked Peter's lips. "Peter, is it too late to ask you to take me back? I mean, I know you want to be with me, but I don't…want to cause problems. I don't want you to think I'm running around with another man behind your back."

Peter took both of Neal's hands and squeezed them. "Honey, I'm the one who should be asking you to take me back. You gave the ring back to me because I hurt you. You didn't cause the problem." He stroked Neal's skin with his thumbs. "I won't think you're with another man, Neal. I trust you." Neal nodded silently. "Will you take me back?"

Neal took his hands out of Peter's and caressed the older man's cheeks, rubbing his cheekbones. "Yes." Peter smiled at him, shifting to reach into his pocket. He pulled the engagement ring out while Neal lowered his left hand and held it out. Peter slid the ring onto his ring finger, then intertwined their fingers.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"I love you." Neal said it so emotionally that Peter almost started tearing up. He knew Neal meant it and he felt extremely guilty for accusing Neal of being unfaithful.

Peter exhaled shakily. "I love _you,_" he whispered, kissing Neal gently.

•◊•

Peter hovered above Neal, stroking Neal's hair while gazing into Neal's eyes. Neal told him as soon as they got into bed together that he wasn't feeling up to sex and Peter accepted that without a single word. Neal wanted to get completely undressed and silently requested that Peter do the same. He respected Neal in such a vulnerable state even though he'd shown otherwise earlier. Neal could easily have put sheets between them, but he wanted the same intimacy they always had. He wanted Peter to trust him as much as he trusts Peter. "What would you have done if I left?" Neal asked quietly, bending his right knee to slide his leg against Peter's.

"Would you have run off alone or with Nick?"

Neal frowned and Peter immediately regretted the question. "I was…hurt when he didn't want you to leave after I told you to get out. I… In that state of mind, I probably would have left alone."

Peter nodded. "I would have hated myself for throwing something so special away," he whispered, "but I would've sucked it up in front of Nick. I know you wouldn't want him upset and I don't want him to be either, so I'd…pretend everything was okay even though I knew it wasn't and my heart was trying to cave in on itself."

Neal nodded slowly. "Would you have…come after me?"

The older man didn't hesitate to say, "Yes." Neal gave him a small smile. "I love you and I told you before that I won't let you go without a fight. I'd fight to get you back, Neal."

They talked a little while longer, flipping positions halfway through the conversation per Neal's request to be on top. They didn't fall asleep until shortly after three-thirty in the morning, but it'd been worth staying up late. They cleared up several problems and both were grateful to have the other in their arms.

Mozzie stumbled in a little after five after heading into the room he'd set up for Neal to check on him, only to find that the room was cleaned out. He nearly dashed towards the bedroom to wake Peter up, but he found his best friend there as well. He sighed in relief. Neal would have told him if he'd planned on leaving, or at least he hoped so.

He stayed overnight, listening to the couple he adored most breathe quietly across the room.

Around nine-thirty, Neal began to stir. It was Saturday morning and he didn't want to move, especially with the aches in his body. He was laying on his right side and Peter's chest was against his back, Peter's arm draped over his torso. He glanced over his shoulder sleepily and smiled. Peter was still sound asleep, his face pressed against the back of Neal's shoulder. "Mon frère."

He startled, his eyes widening as he looked over at the couch. "Moz?" he whispered.

Mozzie was eating their cereal while drinking their coffee. "You and Suit are okay?" he asked gently. He assumed things were better since they'd gone to bed together and it was evident that they'd gone to bed in the nude when Neal's leg shifted the blanket and exposed his thigh.

"Yeah," he answered, rubbing his eyes. Mozzie was thrilled to see that Neal had his ring on. That was definitely good. "We talked for a few hours once I came home."

The balding man nearly had a stroke when Neal's head turned to reveal his bruising cheek. "This might sound…terrible, but did… Did he hit you?"

Neal's brows furrowed and then he realized what Mozzie was referring to. "Oh. No. No, Peter didn't hit me. I got myself into a rough situation while I was working last night." He glanced at his bicep and noticed that he'd bled through the bandages. "The, uh, suspect was definitely the man we were looking for. He tried to beat information out of me. On the plus side, Diana has a very quick response time and she kicks some major ass."

Mozzie visibly relaxed, chuckling quietly. "If he hit you, I'd kill him. Right now would have been the opportune time to do so, too."

The younger man sighed and laid his head back down onto the pillow, watching Mozzie. "Even if he did, it wouldn't be worth killing him over."

"You underestimate how deeply my affection and devotion runs, mon frère." Neal smiled at him. He knew that if he lost everything and everyone, Mozzie would be there for him. Mozzie and his illegal means had taken care of Neal before and Mozzie told him repeatedly over the years that he'd do it all over again if he had to.

"What're you going to do, pull a corkscrew on him?" he teased.

Mozzie glared noncommittally. "For your information, I _would._" Neal grinned, remembering a time when Mozzie had pulled a corkscrew on a few guys who'd been messing with Neal. "I'd use an unsharpened pencil to assault your assailant if that was the only means of weaponry I was provided with." He gave Neal an impish smile. "However, you're a Suit and you've got a Suit issued—"

"Oh, hell no," Neal said. "Your hands will go nowhere near my gun." He knew Mozzie could be potentially dangerous when he felt that Neal had been threatened. He'd seen Mozzie take brutes down for him before, so he didn't doubt Mozzie's abilities with a gun, but he preferred it if Mozzie didn't resort to a shootout.

"Imagine the things I could do for you if you let me use your gun."

"That's exactly what worries me."

Mozzie chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, mon frère…" He sobered up a few moments later. "May I ask how you ended up in bed with Suit? When we last spoke, you were angry and in tears because of him."

Neal rested his hand over Peter's hand that was placed in front of his stomach. "En amour, on pardonne, mais on n'oublie jamais."

Mozzie nodded, understanding. "In love, we forgive, but we never forget," he translated. "A French proverb spoken by an unknown voice."

"I'll remember how much it hurt, but I can move past it," he whispered. "He's a good man. I love him with my heart and soul, Moz." He looked down at Peter's hand, absently stroking Peter's knuckles. "I can't explain it with words, but I love him in ways I'll never be able to change—no matter how hard I try."

"Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point."

Neal gave his best friend a wry smile. "The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of," he translated, adding, "Pascal."

Peter inhaled sharply behind him, muttering, "Playing games already?" against Neal's back. He'd overheard their quotations and was thankful they translated for each other because he had no idea what the hell they were saying nor did he think he could attempt to spell any of it to look up a translation on his own time.

"Good morning," Neal whispered, twisting himself enough so Peter could kiss him.

Peter pulled Neal closer and kissed him tenderly. "Good morning," he responded.

They both stared into each other's eyes, smiling weakly at each other. Mozzie sensed the minimal amount of tension lingering between them, but knew they'd be just fine in the end. If not, he'd have to kill Peter, hide the body, kidnap Neal and Nicky, change their names, and flee to another country. "Well, you're both naked, so I'm going to head downstairs to grab a bottle of wine. In that time, I'd like it if you two could dress yourselves appropriately."

Peter rolled his eyes as Mozzie got up from the couch and started to head out. Once he was gone, Peter kissed Neal again. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better. You?"

"Soundly," he said quietly. Neal gave him one last kiss before pushing himself up. Peter watched as the blanket slid away from Neal's body while Neal slid off of the bed and went to grab clothes from the dresser. Neal didn't seem to give a second thought to strutting around the bedroom naked and Peter liked that he felt comfortable enough to do that after his nightmare and their argument. He watched Neal dress himself attentively and smiled when Neal pulled one of Peter's Quantico shirts on to compliment his sweatpants. Neal didn't realize Peter had raptly watched him until he turned and froze. "You look…really sexy," Peter said, sounding shy.

Neal wore the oversized shirt with his black sweatpants, his hair a mess from twisting around in his sleep. Peter loved his bed-head. "Your turn," Neal said with a grin. Peter chuckled and threw the blanket back, scooting across the bed to move towards Neal. He rummaged through his drawers, looking for something Neal might like to see on him. However, Neal's eyes were focused elsewhere. "The morning wood is very attractive," he whispered, his eyes shifting back up to Peter's face.

Peter chuckled, kissing Neal. "It's always because of you." Neal rolled his eyes, but Peter smiled softly at him. They both knew it was true, though Neal would like to argue otherwise.

"If Mozzie weren't here, I'd offer to blow you." Peter cocked an eyebrow, surprised by the blunt and sexual remark. "What? I can't be frisky in the morning?"

"You're usually too tired in the morning to be frisky," he teased. Neal gave him a look of challenge moments before pressing his body against Peter's, staring up at his lover's face. "Mozzie is still here, sweetheart." He could see the devious ideas going through Neal's mind and wondered how Neal had gone from not being in the mood last night to striking up a sexual conversation shortly after waking up. Neal canted his hips against Peter and Peter was surprised to feel Neal's hardness. "Babe…"

Neal laughed lightly. "Get dressed, love." He kissed Peter's chest before turning to look through the drawers for Peter. He handed Peter his briefs and started to look for something comfortable. He ended up grabbing one of Peter's worn Yankees shirts. Peter reflected as he pulled his briefs and shirt on, realizing how much he loved that Neal knew which shirts Peter liked most. Hell, for his last birthday, Neal somehow managed to get him a baseball bat signed by the entire team. He suspected that Neal used his status as an FBI agent to gain some access and ask for a favor, but Neal never confirmed nor denied that. Peter's black sweatpants seemed to go well with Peter's shirt in Neal's mind, so he handed the pair to Peter and watched Peter pull them on. "Magnifique," he commented with a grin.

Peter ruffled his hair, which didn't do much considering the disheveled state it was already in. He took Neal by surprise by wrapping an arm around his waist and yanking him closer. "I see something especially _magnifique_ right here," he whispered, leaning down to kiss Neal's soft lips. When he pulled away and took in the sight of his breathless lover, he vowed he'd _never_ do anything to damage their relationship again. Neal's eyes were wide, yet full of love, and he smiled, looking as though the kiss had sucked all of his breath out of him. This was something Peter treasured because he knew he couldn't make Neal look this happy every day.

He vowed that he'd do his damnedest to make it happen though—just to preserve the beauty of this particular image he captured in his mind of Neal. It was one of those moments he wished would drag on because it warmed his heart, knowing he made Neal look that happy. He always said Neal deserves to be happy, so he'd do everything in his power to make Neal a happy man—and eventually, his happy husband.


	47. Chapter 47

Monday morning, Neal and Peter stepped off of the elevator together. Diana had a slight panic attack when she saw Neal, but then she relaxed a bit. He'd vanished from the brothel Friday night and she hadn't noticed until everything was getting wrapped up. Neal laughingly said, "I bought the tickets, so you're buying the food," once they passed through the glass doors. The fact that _Neal_ was the one who said it made everyone heave a sigh of relief. Most of the agents overheard their comments to each other on Friday and were nervous, wondering if Peter was going to lash out at them with a heavy workload because he couldn't patch up his relationship with Neal—due to Neal's lack of cooperation.

"I know you're going to take advantage of that," Peter said quietly as Neal took his fedora off and set it on his desk. When Neal turned, Peter rested his hands on Neal's hips. Neal gave him a small smile, his eyes lighting up. "But I'll buy the world for you." He pecked Neal's lips and Neal's eyes followed them afterwards.

Jones stood beside Diana, muttering, "Thank God."

She shook her head and tentatively walked over to the two men. "Hey, Di," they said simultaneously. Neal chuckled and Peter smiled at him.

"Wow. This is a great improvement, guys—saying the same thing at the same time." She shook her head and then looked at Neal, observing him. She'd seen the mess he'd been when she burst into the room. His cheek and neck were bruised, but he was trying to hide his throat with his shirt collar. His lower lip was split, but on the mend, and he had a small gash near his temple. "Where the hell did you go Friday night? I texted and called you at least a hundred times."

He glanced up at Peter. "I went home." He returned his gaze to Diana. "Peter took care of me. I'm all right, Di, so don't worry."

She watched how Neal made _very_ small reactions to pain he must be feeling. After seeing how bloody he'd been, she couldn't blame him. She was surprised he even came in. Peter usually made him take off if he was injured. He'd been off for a while after getting shot twice in the same day. Diana believed that was the longest period of time Neal took off. He didn't lose any vacation days because he'd been hurt on the job though, so Peter appreciated that.

Peter glanced at Neal and said, "I've got some stuff to work on in my office, so I'll head on up there so I can go out to lunch with you."

"Sounds fine, babe." Peter slid an arm behind Neal, gently nudging him closer. He kissed Neal, letting him go moments later.

Neal watched Peter walk up to his office, mesmerized. "How did you work things out? You were really upset with him—understandably so."

He dropped his gaze to the floor. "Well, he actually came to me. I almost walked into the apartment and he must've heard me take off before I went in. I was going to use the bathroom to clean myself up and then I remembered he was home." She nodded silently. "There were towels stocked in the closet of the room I'd moved into temporarily, so I just used those. He came to talk to me and then it all went sideways when he opened the door and saw me—bloody mess and all." He put his hands in his pockets, smiling fondly. "He took care of me. He knew I was still pissed off with him, but he helped me nonetheless. I guess some part of me just…let it happen because he was being kind. So…we talked."

She rested a hand on his shoulder, which brought his attention back to her face. "I'm really glad everything's okay now," she said sincerely, looking directly into his eyes to show him that. He knew she felt terrible and he'd tried to tell her she wasn't at fault. He blamed himself for not telling Peter all of the finer details regarding the case, but he put most of the blame on Peter for saying such cruel things. "How are you feeling?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "I feel fine."

"Where were you—?"

Someone burst through the glass doors, shoving them aside quickly. Neal turned around to see who was disrupting the quiet and his mouth went dry. "You've gotta be kidding me," he whispered.

Diana gave Neal a questioning look that he didn't see. There was a man doubled over in front of them, panting. When he straightened up, the first thing he saw was Neal. "Neal?" Neal swallowed hard, taking a step forward. "Neal Caffrey," he said fondly. "It's been a while."

Neal offered his hand for a handshake and the man pulled him into a hug instead. He made a surprised sound, realizing he should have known a handshake wouldn't suffice with him. "Dan," he said quietly, trying to keep the conversation professional. He stepped back to put some distance between them. "It has been a while," he agreed. "About seven or eight years, I think, right?"

Dan nodded. "Last time I saw you was the French Riviera." Neal remembered that. They'd gone off on some getaway Dan spent a lot of money on and Neal felt terrible for agreeing to go because he'd been planning on breaking up with Dan at the time.

Neal glanced at Diana, a bit nervously. "Dan, this is Diana. She's one of my partners." Dan gave her a hug, too, and she looked at Neal like she wanted to murder the kid. "Diana, this is Daniel Pica. He's my…ex-boyfriend." He was really getting tired of past relationships popping up at random. This was just icing on the cake.

"Whoa. You're working for the FBI?"

"Yeah. I have been for a little over two years now."

Dan looked impressed. "Damn, Neal. I never thought you'd become an FBI guy. You've done well for yourself." Neal gave him a small, moderately gracious smile. "Well, since I've finally found you once again, have you been seeing anyone?"

Neal didn't hesitate to say, "Yes. Currently unavailable."

"Serious relationship?"

As Neal opened his mouth, a deeper voice answered, "Very." He turned, eyes wide, to stare at Peter. Peter didn't look angry, so he guessed that was good. He extended his hand towards Dan. "Special Agent Peter Burke." Dan eagerly shook Peter's hand. He didn't realize that Peter and Neal were together just yet, which made Peter struggle to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm Neal's fiancé," he added.

Dan paused, looking between them. He'd fallen in love with Neal seven years ago and it took him a full year to finally get Neal's attention. Their relationship came to an abrupt end in France after Neal left a note for Dan on the nightstand in their hotel room. He apologized for leading Dan on, but he'd been planning on ending the relationship for a little while. He never discovered the reason Neal broke it off with him. "I didn't expect you to settle for someone," he said gently, trying not to offend Neal. He wasn't being condescending.

Peter, however, felt that he _was_ being condescending. Before Peter could make a smart comment, Neal put a hand on his chest and said, "I've grown up since France. Things have changed." He bunched up the fabric of Peter's suit jacket slightly, looking up at his fiancé. "_I've_ changed a lot."

Dan took a step back and looked Neal over, making Peter uneasy. "I can tell. You told me you _hated_ suits. I never saw you as being a tie guy."

Neal cleared his throat. "Okay then." He glanced up at Peter, nervous. Peter caught his eye and forced a smile to ease Neal. "Um…" He looked down at the floor, then at Dan. "So, Dan, what're you here for exactly? It looked urgent when you ran in."

"Oh, yeah!" Peter got really possessive when Dan tugged at Neal's cuffs by putting his arm around Neal, clutching at Neal's left hip with his left hand. "I think someone tried to break into my mansion while I was away. I went on a vacation to New Zealand to visit some friends and came back to find some of my things out of place."

Peter's brows furrowed. "What things?" They ended up going to Dan's mansion, taking the elevator up to what he'd called his 'trophy room.' It made Neal sick to walk in and see all kinds of art he loved from afar, but could never afford to buy. Peter followed Dan as Dan showed him some valuable items, which was getting on Peter's nerves. "Dan, not to be rude or anything, but can we see the 'things' you were talking about?"

Dan led them up to the third floor and Neal gaped at it. He'd forgotten that this is where Dan slept—where _he_ and Dan slept. His face heated up and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, walking around the room aimlessly. Peter noticed, but didn't comment. "This," Dan said, indicating several golden chalices and crowns strewn across this part of the room. "I came home and they were knocked off of the shelf."

"Neal," Peter said, turning slightly. Neal, like a dog, perked up when he heard his name and instantly moved towards Peter. "Can you check for fingerprints? I'm going to take a look around."

Neal nodded as Peter started to walk past him, then he gripped Peter's arm. "Don't get jealous, please," he pleaded. "We just fixed—"

Peter cut him off, softly saying, "I know, sweetheart." He rubbed Neal's hand before the younger man slid it down Peter's arm and eventually returned it to his side.

Neal crouched in front of the items, pulling gloves out of his pocket. He slipped them on and then retrieved the fingerprint powder and small duster from his other pocket, going to work as Peter asked. He dusted the powder over one of the crowns, then lifted it to examine it. Dan crouched beside him, watching intently. Neal tensed slightly, glancing sidelong at Dan before returning his attention to the crown. "No prints on this one," he muttered, setting it back down.

"Can I ask you something since we're kind of alone?"

His eyes flickered over to Dan and then away again. "It depends," he responded quietly.

Dan nodded. "Why did you leave? You didn't explain in your note. I woke up and you were just gone."

Peter glanced over at them, overhearing their conversation from across the room. He didn't worry about anything because he could see how tense Neal's back was. "I left for personal reasons," he answered. Dan gently pressed him to elaborate and he sighed exasperatedly. "I left because of my son, Dan. I needed to be home with him instead of traipsing about France, pretending I didn't have any responsibilities."

Dan looked shocked. Peter didn't feel so bad about not knowing about Nicky at first. Even when Neal left Dan, he hadn't told him about Nicky. Peter guessed that Nick would've been at least three years old when the two men started dating. "I understand now," Dan said. "I wish you'd told me about him though. You know I love children."

Something in Neal's posture nearly made Peter bolt across the room to get to him. "Yes. You had an unhealthy obsession with children," he said quietly, still looking each item over for fingerprints.

"You didn't feel comfortable with me getting to know your son?"

Neal glanced at him, his eyes hardening. "I don't feel comfortable letting anyone get to know him. Dan, I told you that you needed to stop the obsession. You were making me think you planned to..." He trailed off, swallowing hard. "...to molest them," he said quietly.

"I see," he said solemnly, looking at the floor.

Peter absolutely understood Neal's perspective. He was overly protective of his son and Peter loved that about him. Despite Neal's constant putdowns regarding his ability to parent and the fact that he never had a proper father figure in his own life, Neal knew he was a pretty good father. Neal sighed, pushing himself up. He turned to face Peter, looking depressed and anxious. "There aren't any prints, Peter. They were all cleared. Whoever came in was looking for something specific, but it wasn't these."

Peter crossed the room to stand beside Neal, glancing at Dan. "What's more valuable than these things?" He caught the displeased and offended face Neal made and whispered, "What?"

"You're looking at the same things I'm looking at. This mansion is filled to the brim with valuable pieces." Dan grinned at Neal and Neal caught it in his peripheral vision. "Don't look so smug," he said firmly. "People who live in places like this usually wind up in a morgue—dead. For all we know, your life could be in danger right this second."

Dan looked uneasy and Peter knew then that Neal had been in the dominant position of that relationship. That surprised Peter a bit. Neal didn't want to take charge in their relationship, but he'd obviously had to with Dan. Dan was looking for Neal's approval and Neal wasn't having any of it, which Peter was grateful for. "I'm not a child," Dan said petulantly.

"You sure act like one sometimes."

"I know I've got you to protect me."

Neal froze for a moment. When he relaxed, he shrugged. "Okay. I have one child," he said tightly, "I can handle another." With that, he turned and walked out of the room, heading back downstairs.

Dan was frowning. "I know you're his fiancé, so you obviously care about him, but does he always act so moody?"

Peter wanted to punch Dan in the face. Neal wasn't _moody._ "I'd recommend that you stop flirting with him—directly _and_ indirectly." Dan protested and Peter shook his head. "I've learned to detect when someone's flirting with him, Mister Pica. It would be unwise to pursue him, especially since he's going to be my husband in the near future."

The trip back to the FBI building was awkward to say the least. Neal waited in the car for Peter and Dan to come downstairs. He was going to drive, much to Peter's disdain. Peter knew firsthand that Neal wasn't a very polite driver when he was in a bad mood. To Peter's surprise, Neal drove back without getting irritated further. He drove about fifteen miles per hour over the recommended speed, but made no comment. Neal wouldn't do anything reckless, even if his need for speed suggested otherwise.

Peter came up to the conference room with two cups of coffee. "Hey," he said softly. Neal looked up from his papers and gave Peter a small smile. "Thought this might help you a bit." He slid the mug across the tabletop and Neal gratefully took it.

Neal looked at Peter's mug and smiled wider. Peter was still using the mug he'd made for him. Peter came around the table to sit beside Neal, reclining slightly in his chair to get comfortable. "Did you push Dan onto Diana?"

"You bet I did."

Neal chuckled. "She's going to rip him a new one if he says something childish. She has no patience for that."

"If you don't mind me asking…" Neal glanced at Peter warily as Peter began to ask his question. "What exactly did he do to make you think he was a potential pedophile?"

Neal shrugged, going back to his paperwork. Peter felt that he wasn't going to get an answer out of Neal, so he slid some papers over to himself so he could try to help Neal figure out what Dan's intruder might be after. "He acted so much like a kid," Neal finally said. "I didn't really mind it. I thought it was kind of cute at first, to be honest, but then he started talking about how beautiful and handsome these children looked while we were at the park one day." Neal pushed his papers forward and turned to face Peter. "He slipped and said he'd brought a few of them over to the house to 'play' with them, which scared the shit out of me because I thought about having him meet Nick."

"Did he ever…?"

"I don't know," Neal whispered. "I found a list of the names of the kids he took an interest in and got in contact with most of their parents. I warned them about Dan and they took it very seriously." Peter knew Neal was relieved and possibly even proud of himself for helping a child and preventing an adult from taking advantage of them. "I called the police, too. All Dan knew was that somebody tipped them off and they brought him in for questioning. He never even suspected that I'd gone behind his back."

Peter scooted closer to Neal, rubbing Neal's forearm. "You possibly saved several kids," Peter said quietly. He knew how intensely Neal felt about things like this. He hadn't even hesitated to take things into his own hands because he wanted to help those children.

Neal nodded. "I know. Their parents gave me thank you cards from their kids." Peter smiled at him. "Protecting them, even though I didn't know a thing about them, was my biggest concern when it came to Dan. I tried to keep an eye on him. He was upset for a while when none of the kids came to the park at the same time we did." Peter raised an eyebrow. "We walked a lot," Neal said quickly. "It was his thing."

"You're a good man," Peter whispered, lifting himself out of his seat to lean closer to Neal to kiss him. "You always have been and always will be, honey." Neal wanted to keep kissing him, but Peter pulled away, chuckling. "You're adorable," he said as Neal attempted to get one last kiss out of him.

Neal laughed, jumping up from his seat to pounce on Peter. He straddled the older man's lap, hands caressing Peter's cheeks. He kissed Peter passionately and Peter seemed inclined to let him continue. He thought so until Peter gently pushed him back. "Peter," Neal whined.

He nodded towards the glass walls. "We have no privacy. If you're planning on doing more than just kissing, it'll have to wait, sweetheart." Neal pouted, dismounting from Peter's lap. Moments later, someone cleared their throat in the doorway and Neal startled, until he realized it was just Dan. He didn't want Hughes catching them making out when they were supposed to be working with Dan. "And that's how you romance a potential enemy if they're considering running," Peter stammered.

Dan took a seat across from Peter while Neal returned to his own seat, scooting closer to Peter. "Have you guys figured anything out yet?"

Neal shook his head. "No. No fingerprints were found on any of your things. Do you know if anything was actually stolen?" He set his papers down and looked over at Dan.

"Not that I could see, no."

Peter sighed, arching over the table. He crossed his arms and rested his elbows on the tabletop. "This is bordering on impossible," Peter said, mildly frustrated.

Neal agreed with him and idly glanced at his watch. He gasped and his eyes widened as he jumped out of the chair, saying, "Two-forty-five. Late for Nick."

Peter thought about going with him, but decided he should try to hash out some details with Dan. Neal would grab Nick and probably swing around to get Michael, too, before heading home to drop them off with Mozzie. "Nick's his son?"

The older man nodded. "I think of Nick as _our_ son, but he's biologically Neal's."

"How did—?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss my partner's private life," Peter interjected. "Now, let's focus on this. I'd like to get home to my family in time for dinner tonight."

"Just curious. How long have you two been together?"

Peter glared at him. "Almost two years." He went back to looking at his papers again, dragging Neal's closer to him as well.

Dan looked shocked, but Peter wasn't looking at him anymore. He didn't feel up to discussing his and Neal's relationship with one of Neal's ex-boyfriends. "You're engaged, but you've been together less than two years?"

The older man growled and put his head in his hands. "Dan, I don't mean to be rude, but Neal and I have a very special relationship, okay? I've known him for over two years. We started dating several months later." He rubbed his temples, sighing. "He means everything to me."

"He meant a lot to me, too," Dan admitted. "I loved him and he knew it. I think he was afraid of commitment at the time."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"I didn't have a ring at the time, but I did ask him to marry me." Peter never knew that. He assumed he was the only man who asked Neal for marriage. "He said no—flat out. It hurt for a while and things were awkward."

The older man never realized that there had been a possibility Neal might've ended up spending the rest of his life with someone else. All the more reason to treat Neal like his prince. He should treasure Neal and he will from now on. Peter just nodded, deciding that he didn't want to discuss Neal like this anymore. If he wanted to know something, he wanted to hear it from Neal—not an ex-boyfriend. When his phone started ringing, he whipped it out of his pocket. Neal's smiling picture came up and he answered right away. "Hey, hon."

"_Hey,_" he said breathlessly. "_Got Nick and Mike home. Heading back to you._"

"Sounds good, sweetheart. I hope you aren't using your phone while you're driving."

Neal chuckled. "_I'm calling you via the car._" Peter knew Neal was smiling when he said, "_I wanted to hear your voice._"

Dan was watching Peter intently, cringing as Peter said, "I'm always happy to hear yours, darling." Peter looked at Dan, his face neutral. He didn't particularly care if Dan were jealous. Neal belongs to _him._ He felt terrible for thinking of Neal as a possession, but Neal is his. He refused to give Neal to anyone else, though he knew he'd never have to do that. Neal told him that he'd never be able to fall in love with anyone else. He'd told Peter that Peter ruined him for anyone else. At this moment, he was happy to have done that.

"_All right, love, I'm pulling into the parking lot now. I'll be up in a few. I love you._"

Peter smiled, his cheeks blushing slightly. He loved when Neal called him 'love.' It felt more intimate than 'babe.' "I love you, too. See ya in a few."

The older man ended the call with a smile, looking at the naked picture of Neal on his home screen. He'd been given permission to set it as his background and Neal had one of him as well. Peter was embarrassed by his body, knowing that Neal's body was practically blessed by God. However, Neal insisted that Peter was the sexiest man he'd ever seen naked.

"Is he happy with you?" Peter raised an eyebrow once again. He was really getting tired of his relationship with Neal being questioned. "I just want to know, Agent Burke."

"You're still in love with him." It wasn't a question. He could see it in Dan's eyes. That need for approval, for Neal to be proud of him, lingered there. Dan didn't deny it, but he didn't confirm it either. Regardless, Peter wasn't going to give Neal up. Peter glanced over Dan's shoulder and watched Neal step off of the elevator, smiling up at him. He returned the smile and Dan turned to look as well. Peter caught him and cleared his throat, rising from his chair. "I love Neal more than my own life. He's going to be my husband, Dan."

Dan's gaze fell to the floor. When Neal came into the conference room, smiling brightly at his lover, his eyes alight, Dan stared at him in awe. "Nick told me to say 'hi, poppa' for him." Peter chuckled, returning Neal's smile. "Anyway, have we found anything yet?"

"Unfortunately, no. We're still in the same position we were in when you left." Neal nodded, moving around the table to take his seat beside Peter. Dan was slightly disappointed by that. He'd hoped that Neal might take a seat next to _him_ since he was closer to that side of the table, but he should have just assumed Neal would want to be next to his fiancé. Neal bent over the table a bit, his eyes searching the papers quickly. Peter's mind went straight to the gutter when he found himself distracted by Neal's ass. He rested his hand on the small of Neal's back, leaning over to see what Neal was looking at. "Got an idea?"

"I was thinking about it on the way back." He pulled a paper off of the table and held it up to show Peter. "Remember hearing about these at Quantico?"

Peter's eyes widened. "The Imperial Fabergé eggs," he whispered. His eyes flickered over to Dan. "Do you realize that these are part of a stolen collection? These eggs have been missing since nineteen-eighteen. How in the _hell_ did you get three of the eight?"

Neal looked curious himself. Dan replied, "I bought them. They cost me six million, but they're beautiful pieces of art."

"You blew six _million_ on these," Neal said, sounding very depressed. Peter knew Neal loved art and assumed these meant something to him. "These are a God damn beauty. Having all eight would… Priceless. They'd be priceless." Peter rubbed Neal's back. This explained why Neal was so touchy about Peter spending money on him. Dan was willing to throw millions away on artwork. These were something Neal would never be able to afford in his lifetime, but he wanted them so desperately—or at least to _see_ them in person. "That's it. Someone else must have the other five. With all eight, they could live in paradise for the rest of their days. These _have_ to be what they were after."

Dan looked confused. "They're just eggs. Why are they so important?"

Peter would've laughed if Neal wasn't so frustrated. Neal looked like he was about to have a stroke. "These aren't _just eggs._ They belonged to the Czars in the late eighteen-hundreds—Alexander the third and Nicholas the second, to be exact. Some people believe they're more valuable than the Czars themselves were. The Russians have longed to see these returned to their country since."

Dan shrugged. Neal wanted to strangle him, but Peter kept him calm for the most part. If Peter weren't in the room, he'd probably kill Dan. "So we use these to draw out the person who has the other five?"

"Exactly," Peter answered for Neal, feeling the tension in the younger man's back. Dan nodded, watching as Neal practically buried himself in Peter. It was getting under his skin, watching the man he'd loved—the man he _still_ loves with his new lover.

Peter slid his hand up Neal's back, eliciting a small shiver. Neal knew what Peter was doing and it sent a bit of a thrill through him. Peter was _definitely_ jealous and wanted Dan to know Neal was Peter's. Neal would've left Peter for doing that about five or so years ago, but he needed that kind of love now. Peter didn't want to give him up. He felt _wanted._

Neal straightened up, leaning closer to Peter. He loved being this close to Peter. This was something he never felt with any of his past lovers. A few of them had been possessive or jealous, but not nearly as affectionately as Peter was. There was no control or power issue surrounding their relationship. Peter just wanted to keep Neal's love for himself. And Neal was _more_ than happy to make small gestures, such as touching Peter's hand, to let Peter know that _he_ was the only one Neal wanted. There could never be another man for him. Even if they'd split up after their argument, Neal would never love anyone else again. He'd been loved by Peter in ways he never thought he'd experience and it meant so much to him. He would crave _Peter_ for the rest of his life. No one could _ever_ love him as much as this man does. Neal also knew he could never love anyone the way he loves Peter. Their love was unconditional and _true._ Staring into Peter's eyes was enough to make butterflies flutter in his stomach. Nobody would ever compare to Peter—_ever._


	48. Chapter 48

Neal woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing and vibrating on the nightstand. He groaned and reached out for it without opening his eyes. He answered and held it up to his ear, sleepily saying, "Hello?" Peter's arm tightened around his midsection and Neal felt guilty. Peter was awake now, too.

"_Hey, Neal. I've been thinking about the Imperial eggs. I have a theory._"

Peter kissed Neal's shoulder as Neal fought to contain the urge to throw his phone across the room. He barely opened his eyes to see the time and said exasperatedly, "Daniel, it's fucking three in the morning. Can't this wait until _later?_"

The older man was more alert now, sitting up a bit. Neal's eyes were shut again. He really didn't want to wake up entirely. He felt warm and comfortable laying beside Peter and he wanted to to back to sleep feeling the same way. "_I think it's kind of important now._"

"I'm gonna be honest and say I really don't give a fuck right now. I _just_ got to sleep. All we've talked 'bout these last few days is this case." Peter's hand slid up Neal's bare chest, his fingers ghosting over Neal's skin. "I need sleep or I won't be a very pleasant FBI agent."

Dan sighed on the other end of the phone and Neal did as well, knowing what was coming next. "_Fine. I guess it isn't that important after all…_"

Neal was tired of this. Dan kept calling at the most inconvenient times to pester him about his art and mansion since the FBI put him in a safe house and he always pouted when Neal had to get off the phone. "G'night," Neal muttered, hanging up before Dan could respond. He opened his eyes enough to see his phone, turning the volume down until it was set to silent. He tossed the phone back onto the nightstand and adjusted himself on the bed, pressing his back firmly against Peter's chest. "I'm gonna strangle him," he murmured.

Peter's chin rested on Neal's shoulder. "I'll give you a good alibi if you do." Neal chuckled, exhausted. "Go back to sleep, honey. I'll call Hughes at seven and tell him we aren't coming in until at least ten."

"Think he'll be okay with it?"

"Mhm," Peter mumbled. "Dan's been pissing him off, too, so he'll understand."

Neal flipped over, lying chest to chest with Peter. He nuzzled his face against Peter's throat. "At least he isn't planning my next rape," Neal murmured sleepily—thoughtlessly. He wasn't thinking straight and Peter knew it. He would've commented on it, but he was afraid that it would draw too much attention to the subject, especially since Neal was half asleep as it was.

Peter kissed Neal's hair, holding him close. "Love you, hon. Sleep, please." Neal only nodded in response, resting his right hand on Peter's hip.

At seven, Peter slid out of bed. He had to wake Nick and Mike up to get them ready for school. He'd let Neal sleep in for a little while, knowing that he's been stressed out by Dan's constant need for Neal's attention. He'd gotten Hughes on the phone and the older man allowed them to have until noon if they needed it. That relieved Peter to no end. Neal definitely needed that time and he didn't need Dan to ruin it.

Peter dropped Michael off at school first, telling him to have a good day and to stay out of trouble. He threatened to tell Neal about the physical fight he'd gotten into if Michael got into another fight. Michael knew to take Peter seriously when it came to telling Neal things. Neal, being the father he's been for over a decade, would probably lecture him and Michael really didn't want to listen to his brother treat him like a child.

Dropping Nicky off was much more pleasant. He went inside to take Nicky to his classroom. He paid Nick's' teacher for lunch and was getting ready to leave when Nicky hugged him tightly. "Make daddy happy today, poppa," he pleaded.

Peter's lips parted and he was speechless for a few moments. "I'll, uh, do everything I can, Nick." He knelt in front of the boy, giving him a soft smile. He hugged Nicky, kissing his cheek. "I'll pick you up after school today, okay? Uncle Mozzie will be at home again because I have to go back to work with daddy afterwards."

Nicky nodded. "Love you, poppa."

"Love you, too, Nicky," he whispered. Nicky hugged him again before dashing across the room to sit with his friends. Peter couldn't help smiling at how happy he was. He turned to head out. "Have a nice day, Miss Green," he said on the way out.

She glanced at him before he left, realizing she needed to talk to him. "Oh, Mister Burke!" He turned, heading back over to her. "The kids' fair at Central Park is coming up next Thursday. Do you think either one or both of you can attend with Nicky?"

He nodded. "Neal has something going on in the evening, but I'm sure we can work something out. I'll talk to him about it and get back to you." She smiled at him before allowing him to leave. He really liked Nicky's teacher. She was very friendly and absolutely loved Neal. The two of them really hit it off when Neal took Nicky to his small meeting with the teacher before the school year started.

Upon getting home, he realized Neal had gotten out of bed. He could hear the shower running. He set his keys and wallet down on the nightstand, heading towards the bathroom. Before going inside, he knocked on the door. "It's open," Neal called out over the water.

He went inside and listened to Neal breathe in the steamy water. "How long have you been in there?"

"Just got in actually. Join me?"

Peter smirked. He'd kind of been hoping Neal would ask him to jump in with him and was eager to strip down and get in. He stepped in behind Neal, sliding his arms around Neal's slick stomach. "How're you doing?" he asked quietly.

Neal shrugged, leaning back against Peter. "Tired, but…needed to get up and in here," he whispered. Peter gave him a concerned look and Neal nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said even quieter.

"It's all right," Peter reassured him, kissing his jaw. "It's been a while since you felt like this. Did you have a nightmare?"

Neal nodded solemnly. "Something like that." Peter didn't press him for an elaboration. He rested his forehead against the back of Neal's head, rubbing the younger man's stomach. "Adler's trying to get out of prison by claiming I didn't report the rape in a timely manner."

"_What?_" he cried incredulously, lifting his head to look at the side of Neal's face.

Neal frowned. "His lawyer called me while you were gone. Adler wants to see me."

"Oh, fuck no. He's in New York. Rape has no statute of limitations here, damn it."

"He raped me in Missouri and I don't think there's a time limit there either," he said, his voice betraying him. Peter was furious. He didn't think this was right. "The lawyer told me I should've reported it within the timeframe of ten years following the first offense." His voice shook and he was starting to tremble. "I was thirteen. Who the hell was I supposed to go to? Who the _fuck_ would've believed me?"

Peter hugged Neal, sliding his hands up to Neal's chest. He kissed the back of Neal's neck. "I'm not going to let him get away with this, honey. I will enforce the fact that, yes, he committed the crime in Missouri, but he came to New York after you and you reported it here, which means you were within your right to report it with enforcement. Even if you'd gone back to Missouri, you'd still be able to report it and have it enforced without restriction." Neal covered his face with a trembling hand and Peter's heart clenched when Neal started sobbing. The younger man spun around and held onto Peter tightly. Peter stroked Neal's wet hair, sitting down on the shower floor when Neal started to pull him down. Neal's body was between Peter's legs and he was sobbing against Peter's throat. "Honey, I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Neal stammered, "He's gonna get away with it. He's gonna get out of prison and he's… He'll kill me." Peter wrapped his arms around Neal, rocking him gently. "Peter, he's gonna kill me. I-I'm going to get raped again." Peter didn't know what to say to help. He wanted to tell Neal that what he was saying wasn't true, but he didn't want Neal to argue with him about it. "He's going to rape me, Peter," he whispered. His voice cracked when he added, "I'm so _scared._"

"Honey," he said brokenly against Neal's cheek, "I'm scared _for_ you. He doesn't deserve freedom. I'll kill him if he gets out. There's no way in hell that I'll let him get near you or our son again." He continued rocking Neal slowly as he listened to Neal cry, his own heart breaking with each sharp intake of breath. "This is bullshit," Peter said angrily. "This was a crime he should _never_ be able to walk away from. He forced you into this. You never had a choice in the matter and you deserve to have a choice now. He doesn't deserve to be released."

Neal's nails were digging into Peter's shoulder blades and the older man didn't know how to ask him to stop without implying that Neal was hurting him. "I can't… Peter, I can't…"

"Can't what?"

Neal swallowed hard. "I can't live with myself if it happens again. I hate looking at myself right now. If he… I won't be able to go on with my life and think I can do this," he whispered. "I won't be able to come out of this and I'm so fucking sorry."

"No, honey, no," Peter said softly. "Don't you dare apologize. You're talking to me, sweetheart. I understand this and I'm pissed off about it." He kissed Neal's cheek, letting his lips linger on the hot, wet skin. "He can't do this to you. He has no right to cause you pain—to terrify you—like this."

"Please, promise me you won't leave me," Neal begged. He finally lifted his head to look at Peter. His eyes were red, tears and water streaking down his face.

Peter nodded, brushing Neal's wet hair out of his face. "I will _never_ leave you," he promised. "Never. Not even for a moment." He stroked the side of Neal's face slowly, keeping his eyes locked onto Neal's. He gently kissed Neal's forehead, whispering, "I love you too much. I couldn't leave you even if I tried."

•◊•

Neal went into his group therapy, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. It wasn't difficult considering it was still healing. Peter promised him he'd stay out in the car until the session was over or Neal felt like he needed to leave. They'd made it through the workday and Peter kept Dan away from Neal as best he could.

Tara smiled at him brightly when he came down the hallway and into the room. She jumped up from her chair and met him halfway. "Hey, you," she said sweetly.

"Hey," he whispered.

She gave him a concerned look. "Are you okay?" He shook his head. "Are you going to talk about it here tonight?" He thought about it for a moment before swallowing and shaking his head again. She nodded, giving him a small smile. "Can I give you a hug?"

He laughed lightly, nodding. He opened his arms for her and she pressed herself against him, holding him tight. "Thanks, Tara," he said into her hair.

She squeezed him for a moment. "You're my best friend, Neal. I'm not the first person you'll come to when something's wrong, but I hope you know I'm always willing to give you a hug if you need one."

He smiled, pulling back, resting his hands on her hips. "I appreciate that," he said sincerely. "Although, I think it'd be pretty ridiculous for either of us to cross all of Manhattan just for a hug."

She giggled, shaking her head. "I'd do it for you. You've been helping me so much since I met you, Neal. I owe you."

"No, you don't," he said gently. "I care about you, Tara. You're my friend and that's enough of a payback as I need from you."

They went to sit down when Sara showed up. Tara held Neal's hand and he had no problem with that. She had no intention of flirting with him seriously or hurting his feelings. She'd actually talked to him about a crush she was having on another man she met recently and he teased her about it for a little while before she asked him to meet said man. Neal approved him for her at her request that he make a well-informed decision as to whether or not Declan was right for her. She's been dating Declan for a few months now and Neal loved how happy Declan made her. It was like she'd finally found her Peter.

After the session was over, Neal walked out with Tara, hand in hand. "I haven't heard from Rebecca since…you know," she said tentatively. He nodded, understanding. "I know Peter talked to her and I said a few things to her myself about you. I really didn't like what she did. You're such a sweetheart and she… She really hurt you." He gave her a small smile, appreciating that she cared about him. "I love you, Nealie," she whispered, hugging him. "I don't like when you're hurt."

He chuckled at the nickname, hugging her gently. "I know," he said quietly. "Same when it comes to you, baby." When they pulled away, she smiled at him. "If Declan ever does anything to make you cry, I'll ask you to bring him outside so I can run his ass over. If that doesn't work, I've always got a gun as a backup plan."

She giggled, getting onto her toes to kiss his cheek. "I love having two FBI agents as my friends," she teased. "We need to hang out more. I know you haven't been feeling all that great, but…"

"Go shopping with me this weekend?" he asked, tilting his head to the side a bit. She grinned at him, nodding. "Nick wants me to get him some new toys. I need…stuff, too. I'd really like your company."

"Stuff?" she teased, raising an eyebrow. "Ooh, are we getting it on in the bedroom again?" His face heated up and he ducked his head. She squealed, giggling.

Neal smiled wryly at her. "I'm going to ask Peter if we can do it a little more this weekend since Nick will be spending it with Trenton. We've been…doing it off and on for a while, but we're literally down to our last condom, so…"

She patted his cheek. "I'll chip in for _plenty_ of condoms," she told him.

He chuckled. "Any suggestions on how I should bring up regularly making love with him?"

He noticed the devious glint in her eyes and sighed inwardly. "You get out of work early tomorrow, buy him some chocolate and roses, go home and keep the minimal amount of clothing on, then _wait._ He'll walk in and see you, looking gorgeous and spectacularly delicious, and he won't be able to resist you."

"You must sincerely believe he's a sex addict," he said, laughing. She giggled, taking his hand. She started walking out with him, swinging their arms slowly. He liked this, having a friend he could be with like this. He had El, but she and Peter had more chemistry than he did with her. He loved her enough to want her as his maid of honor, but he didn't feel _this_ comfortable with her. Mozzie would probably swing their arms like this if Neal asked him to, but that was out of the question. She walked him to the _Taurus,_ giving him one last hug. "Thanks so much, Tara, for everything," he whispered, squeezing her.

When they parted, she smiled softly at him. "You're a dear. I couldn't possibly _deny_ my need for your friendship, Nealie."

He chuckled, nodding slowly. "I'll pick you up around two on Saturday, baby?"

"Sounds good! I'll be waiting!" He kissed her cheek before opening the door to get in with Peter. She leaned down to see Peter, grinning at him. "Hey, sexy!"

Peter laughed as Neal got in. "Hey, rock star," Peter replied. She said goodbye to them before heading to her own car to drive home. Peter glanced at Neal, looking for any indication that he'd been faking his happiness around Tara. "How are you feeling, hon?"

He inhaled sharply, giving his attention to Peter. "Better. Talking to Tara was nice. She's such a ball of energy. It's dizzying." Peter smiled at him, reaching over to brush a stay curl behind Neal's ear. "I missed you."

"We were only apart for an hour," Peter teased.

"Yeah, but an hour without you is like an hour without breathing." Peter rolled his eyes. Neal playfully glared at him, leaning over to peck Peter's cheek. "Don't give me that bullshit 'you are _so_ overstating that.'" Peter couldn't help but smile wider. "I talked about you again," he admitted. "Cameron started challenging me again and it pissed me off. He talked about how he's struggled to get into a relationship and implied that I had it really easy."

Peter sobered up, nodding. Neal didn't like Cameron after the last few sessions included Cameron ridiculing Neal or Neal and Peter. "He's obviously bitter," Peter said. "I bet that's why he's single. It's not a matter of 'having it easy,'" he growled. "You struggled and _worked_ to get to the point you're at right now. He obviously hasn't and he's jealous of your strength."

Neal shrugged. He felt like Peter was right, but neither of them knew Cameron well enough to say that was true.

Once they got home, they played _Just Dance_ with Nicky in the living room after Nicky pleaded with Neal. After the third song was over, Nicky giggled at Peter. "You're really bad at this, poppa," he said with a grin.

Peter gave him a wry smile while Neal chuckled. "You're a brat just like daddy," Peter said, reaching out to tickle Nicky. The little boy head-butted Peter's stomach, giggling as Peter kept tickling him. Neal went to sit on the couch, watching the two people he loved more than anything. After Peter let go of Nicky, Nicky ran, laughing. Peter smiled, then turned to face Neal. "Should I give you a round of tickles now?"

"I can think of something better," he said quietly. The older man's smiled faltered. He moved towards Neal and Neal gave him a look of despair. "Please, Peter. I promise I'm okay." He knew that after the morning they had, Peter probably wouldn't let them do anything, but he didn't want to _not_ try. "We haven't made love in at least two weeks. Please?"

"Why?"

Neal frowned, looking away. "Because I want you inside of me," he whispered. Peter sat on the table in front of him, reaching out to stroke Neal's hair. "I do, Peter."

"We'll see how you feel after Nick's asleep, hon." Neal just kept frowning.

•◊•

Neal laid down on their bed, staring at the ceiling. He was still trying to convince Peter that he was all right. Peter was being stubborn and taking his time putting Nicky to bed. Neal slid his belt out of the loops on his pants, then unzipped them. He lifted his hips enough to pull them down and then off, tossing them over the side of the bed. He unbuttoned his shirt and pushed himself up to take it off as well, then he got under the blanket. He was getting ready to go to sleep, figuring Peter wasn't going to give in to him.

A little bit later, the mattress dipped behind him and he was half asleep. He didn't move at all. He really wanted to make love with Peter, but they obviously weren't going to. He just held onto his pillow and kept his eyes closed and his back to Peter. "Are you mad at me?" he asked softly, kissing Neal's shoulder. "I know you're not asleep."

"I'm not mad," Neal muttered into his pillow. "I'm depressed."

Peter felt bad as he rubbed up and down Neal's arm. "I'm sorry, honey," he said quietly.

Neal just shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he mumbled. "Let's just go to bed."

The older man kissed the crook of Neal's neck. "If that's what you want," Peter conceded.

"It's not," Neal said tightly, "but I'm not going to get what I _do_ want, so I'm just accepting it and going to bed." Peter frowned, leaning forward to kiss Neal's cheek. Neal nudged him, wanting him to stop kissing him. He felt like maybe Peter was losing interest in him. It was a silly idea, but he wondered if it were true.

Peter sighed, resting his hand on Neal's hip. "Hon, don't be like this, please. I'm nervous about trying again is all." Neal grunted quietly in response, batting Peter's hand away from his body when he reached down to pull the blanket up closer to his shoulder. "How about tomorrow night?"

"Just forget it, Peter."

The older man slid his arm over Neal's torso beneath the blanket, sliding his legs against Neal's skin. He nuzzled his face against the back of Neal's head. Neal's hair was always so soft and he loved the feel of it. Neal tried to resist, keeping his hands near his pillow instead of holding Peter's hand. "I didn't mean to upset you," he whispered. "The next time you ask, I won't say no. Does that sound okay?"

Neal sighed. "No. Just go to sleep, love," he whispered. "We just won't have sex ever again. That's fine." Peter started to say something and Neal cut him off. "Can I go to sleep, please?" he pleaded with Peter, twisting to look at his lover. Peter nodded at him and Neal laid back down, sighing again. They were quiet for a while, their breathing the only sounds in the room. Peter was breathing warmth against Neal's skin and the younger man eventually took Peter's hand in his in front of his chest. "I love you," he whispered, not sure if Peter were still awake or not.

He got his answer when Peter kissed the back of his neck. "I love you, too, honey."

He felt better about going to sleep. There was no tension between them if they could say they loved each other. He wasn't upset with Peter. He was upset with himself. He wanted to be _with_ Peter, but he felt like Peter's judgment was better when it came to good timing. After all, he'd planned the perfect moment to propose. Neal didn't really doubt that Peter wanted him, especially because he could feel both rings on their fingers. He just had his moments of self-doubt where he felt he didn't deserve to be with Peter because Peter's amazing. Neal feels like he's a poor excuse for a lover, but Peter's never said those words or anything like them.

Their argument last week didn't prove that they weren't in love with each other. If anything, he realized how fragile their self-esteems were. Peter admitted that he felt that Neal was too good for him and Neal never hesitated to tell Peter that _Peter_ was too good for him. At that moment, he didn't understand why he felt tears welling up in his eyes. "I love you so much."

Peter squeezed his hand, kissing his neck again. "I love you just as much." Neal's breathed heavily. He didn't want to reach up and rub his face because Peter would ask him what was wrong and he didn't even know. He opened his eyes and thought for a second about what might be wrong and he considered that it might be an emotional reaction to _knowing_ Peter loves him despite their feelings of being inadequate for the other. He tried not to sniffle either, attempting to wait until Peter was asleep. Peter's arm curled around him more so as Peter shifted closer. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, voice thick.

"Your chest is heaving," he whispered. Neal tried so hard _not_ to let Peter know he was crying. While he'd been focused on keeping himself quiet and from rubbing his eyes, he hadn't thought about calming his breathing. Peter pushed himself up enough to lean over Neal. "Hon, did I hurt you somehow?" he asked, genuinely concerned—as always.

Neal shook his head, rubbing his eyes now that Peter was aware. "No, I'm sorry." He turned over to lay on his back, staring up at Peter in the dim light. He could see the shadows playing tricks on Peter's face that made his heart race in fear. He had to remind himself that he was all right. Peter was going to help him—not hurt him. "I'm not sure why I'm crying, to be honest." Peter kissed his nose, giving him a small smile. Neal arched up, kissing Peter gently. Peter's fingers rested above the pulse point in his neck, stroking it.

They kissed each other lazily for a little while before getting extremely tired. Peter fell asleep with Neal's head on his chest, his fingers tangled in Neal's hair. They'd have to deal with more of Dan's problems tomorrow, unfortunately. For tonight, they slept in the comfort of each other's arms.


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N: The sex scene was edited out of this version, but can be found in the version I've posted on Archive of Our Own.**

Neal loosened his tie, groaning at how _hot_ it was in the FBI building. It was the third week of June and summer vacation started for all of the kids about two weeks prior. Nicky was at home with Mozzie while Neal and Peter worked.

Peter had a very poor air conditioner in his office, but it kept him cooler than the bullpen, which was unfortunate considering there were several agents dealing with the heat, one of them being his fiancé. Daniel Pica was sitting in the conference room with Hughes, trying to help the agents with his case that _still_ hadn't been solved, much to Neal's chagrin. He was getting really frustrated with his ex-boyfriend and Peter didn't know how to help. It _definitely_ didn't help that they still hadn't had sex and Neal was easily agitated now. Instead of crying, he got angry.

He watched his fiancé wipe the sweat off of his face and frowned. Neal was sitting in hell out there, on so many levels. Adler's attorney was really pushing the issue revolving around the timeframe surrounding Neal's first rape and the timing of his report and Neal wouldn't respond. He didn't want to see Adler face to face and Peter couldn't blame him. Rising from his seat, he stepped out of his office, heating up instantly as the atmosphere changed between his office and the outside of it.

He headed down into the bullpen and strolled over to Neal's desk. Neal looked up at him, exasperated, his skin gleaming with his sweat. "You'd swear we were in the middle of July," he muttered. Peter chuckled. They'd definitely be taking a shower together when they got home. He was _so_ grateful that he and Neal went out to buy several fans for the apartment. They wouldn't be able to sleep together otherwise. The body heat mixed with the heat of the summer would be way too much for either of them and neither of them wanted to sleep without the other.

"I'm going to have both of our bedroom fans on you when we get home since you have to sit in this," Peter promised. He reached out and stroked Neal's sweaty hair. They were both glad they could go home in an hour—assuming nobody called for them beforehand. Peter had the feeling that Neal would kill if he had to stay longer than necessary. Neal nodded, folding his hands in front of his forehead, closing his eyes. Peter caressed the back of Neal's head, watching his lover. "Did anything else come up today?"

Neal shrugged. "My mother still wants me to see my father. I feel like I should tell them we're engaged, but I barely know either of them," he said quietly, opening his eyes. "They're my parents, but…they're not."

Peter didn't understand how that felt, but he assumed it was a pretty shitty feeling. "You said you don't want your mother there when we get married," Peter said gently. "If you don't want to tell her, then you don't have to."

"Am I a terrible son if I don't?"

Peter cocked an eyebrow. "Is she a terrible mother for abandoning you?" Neal nodded slowly, warily. "Then don't worry about it. She left you to fend for yourself. I wouldn't tell her and I certainly won't be forcing you to tell her just because she's your mother." He leaned forward and kissed the crown of Neal's head. "She hurt you, hon, and I don't want her to ruin your special day."

"_Our_ special day," he corrected. Peter smiled at him, nodding. "I wouldn't be having a special day if not for your proposal."

"Burke," an irritated voice called out. Peter looked up towards Hughes' office. "You and Caffrey can go home. Berrigan and I will finish up with…" His eyes narrowed as he glanced over his shoulder. "…this."

Diana didn't look too thrilled, but she'd suggested sending the couple home, knowing how Neal got when he wasn't feeling well at all. Peter went up to grab his things from his office, deciding to drag work home with him. He and Neal could work on some things together. By the time he'd finished gathering everything, Neal was already at the elevator waiting, a stack of folders in his arms as well.

Neal waited patiently for Peter before pressing the button. He held the door as Peter came out of the bullpen through the glass doors and joined him. The two of them had the elevator to themselves for a moment and they both sighed. "I got a text from Moz. He took Nick out to the park. Mike is with Mel again, so… We'll have the apartment to ourselves." Peter nodded, wondering what Neal was getting at. "We just going to be working on files?"

"Is there something else you'd rather do, darling?" Neal frowned and bowed his head. "Neal?" The younger man shrugged as the elevator door opened up to the first floor. Neal was out quickly, and Peter had to practically run to catch up to him. "Hey," he said once they were at the car. "What's wrong?"

Neal shrugged again, waiting for Peter to unlock the car. He did and they both got in. Peter set his files on the back seat while Neal kept his in his lap. "I don't really want to work on these," he admitted once he buckled himself in.

Peter had guessed that. "What do you want to do?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

After a moment, it clicked for Peter. "You're asking me to try again?" Neal shook his head, but Peter knew he was right. Neal stopped asking a little while ago, figuring he'd never get anything from Peter again, which was far from the truth. They'd stocked up on condoms, especially since Tara insisted on buying an excess of them while Neal had taken her shopping on a Saturday. He gave it a lot of thought and considered that Neal _might_ be ready. They wouldn't know unless they tried, so maybe he needed to give Neal that opportunity. If things got too heated for him, he could always tell Peter to stop, knowing Peter would do that without hesitating. "If you want to, I'm willing to try."

Neal's head lifted quickly as Peter revved the engine and started to pull away from the sidewalk, taking them both home. "You…think we can do it?"

"If you promise to tell me if or when you want me to stop, then yes."

Neal smiled a little, a slight thrill of excitement shooting through him. "I promise, love." He'd wanted this for a while, but he'd been waiting for Peter to give him an answer rather than asking repeatedly. Peter said he wouldn't say no next time, but Neal didn't want to make himself look desperate.

As soon as they got home, they set their files down on the kitchen table and then stared at each other. Peter's eyes were full of hunger, eliciting a shiver in his younger lover. Peter started stripping beside the table. He didn't want to be in his hot clothes any longer than he had to be and Neal felt the same way. Neal turned on the fans in the bedroom while Peter grabbed the lube and a condom. He tossed them onto the bed and waited for Neal to come closer.

When Neal was right in front of him, Neal wrapped his arms around Peter's neck like the older man had been hoping he would. He smiled and took that opportunity to yank Neal's legs up and around his waist. He startled the younger man, but Neal didn't protest as Peter carried him to the bed. He laid Neal down on his back, hovering above him, his hands holding Neal's thighs against his own hips.

•◊•

Peter kissed Neal's neck, loving the way Neal held onto him for support. Neal's fingers were either digging into Peter's back or tangled in Peter's hair, tugging gently."Peter," he whispered, repeatedly. The older man felt like Neal was trying to keep himself in the present and he admired Neal for trying so hard.

Just as Peter felt like he was about to come, he heard someone bounding up the stairs and they _immediately_ pushed the door to the apartment, exclaiming, "Neal, I have an idea!"

Neal gasped, unable to stop himself from coming on his own stomach. He bit his lip, making small cries as he rode out his orgasm. Peter stopped and stared at the man in the doorway while Neal started to recover, panting against his neck. "Dan, get the _fuck_ out!" he yelled, unwilling to take his face away from Peter's skin. Dan stared in surprised at the two men on the bed.

He hadn't realized they'd be together. In fact, he'd been planning on getting Neal alone to try to talk him out of his marriage. "Out!" Peter growled. Dan startled and backed out, closing the door. Peter felt Neal's hot tears on his skin and, with his arm still around Neal's back, he held him close, kissing Neal's neck. "Oh, God…" he murmured. "Honey, I'm really sorry."

Neal shook his head, letting go of Peter. He gently pushed Peter, making a pained sound when Peter slipped out of his body, and rolled out from underneath his lover to slide off of the bed, grabbing his nearest pair of shorts, pulling them on. Peter watched him haphazardly zip himself up and button his pants before racing over to the door, opening it, and darting out into the hallway. Peter realized Neal was going to get really angry, so he jumped out of bed and pulled his underwear on. He didn't really give a damn if he offended Dan. He'd walked in on them after all.

"Why the fuck do you keep coming back to me?" Neal exclaimed, exasperated. Peter could hear him as he came down the stairs. The other two men were on the ground floor now.

Dan was quiet before shouting, "I'm in love with you!"

Peter froze momentarily, listening to Neal's labored breathing. "You see this?" Peter kept moving and he eventually neared the two, watching Neal. Neal held his left hand up, showing Dan his engagement ring. "This means I'm going to get married," he growled. "I'm going to marry the man I was just spending my afternoon with because he's the love of my fucking mess of a life." Dan and Peter were both stunned into silence. "I'm about ready to go back upstairs and get my gun and blow your damn brains out. You need to stop trying to get back with me, Dan! I left you in France because I couldn't be with you anymore. I didn't want to be."

"I've changed," Dan stammered. "I can take care of you and Nicky. I love—"

"No!" Neal cried. He threw his hands up, clutching his hair. "I could never feel safe with anyone else. I could never trust my son's life with anyone else. I'm going to marry _Peter._" Peter could see how roughly Neal was abusing his own scalp and he raced down the remainder of the stairs, gently prying Neal's hands away from his head. He was surprised to have been met with a minimal amount of resistance. "I'm so fucking sick of all you bastards coming into my life and trying to ruin what I have with Peter. Adler kidnapped my son, Craig fucked me up, Fowler _set_ me up for destruction, and now you're trying your damnedest to make me leave my husband!"

Peter didn't know how to respond to any of this. Dan was taking the brunt of his fury, but Peter would need to bring him back down from this. "Neal, I didn't ask you to leave him. I…I do love you. I could love your son, too. I can prove it."

Neal's eyes were wide and he looked pained. "You just don't _get_ it!" He clenched his hands into fists, his jaw clenching tightly. "You need to go. Peter is going to reassign your case to two other agents. We can't work together. I can't risk my marriage because of _you._"

Dan looked absolutely floored and hurt. Peter kind of sympathized for him, but he didn't at the same time. He understood now how Neal must've felt when Peter spoke to him like this, but it really wasn't the same. He wasn't telling Neal to leave him alone nor was he implying that Neal was an absolute idiot for trying to stay. They argued about petty things and the bigger arguments made them realize their own faults each time. "Dan, you need to leave," Peter said firmly. He could see Dan's eyes wandering away from Neal's face, down to his sweaty chest. "_Now._"

In a matter of moments, Dan was gone. Neal stood still, trying to calm his breathing. Peter rubbed his shoulder tentatively. He didn't want to turn Neal's anger onto himself. "I'm sorry," Neal said quietly. "I had to. I couldn't deal with that anymore." Peter understood. Dan's been getting to him for a while now. He believed the day Dan came in with a fedora on and performed a hat trick Neal showed Peter only a few days earlier was the last straw for Neal. He had the feeling that Neal would lose his cool and he really couldn't blame him.

"It's all right. You don't need to apologize to me."

Neal nodded, taking Peter's hand. He led them back upstairs and Peter found himself hard again as he stared at Neal's glistening back. He himself was pretty sweaty from the heat and their lovemaking, but he felt that he didn't look as sexy as Neal did. Sweaty or not, Neal was God damn gorgeous in his book. Once they were in the confinements of their apartment, Neal stripped himself of his shorts and let them drop to the floor, heading back over to lay down on the bed. Peter thought about asking if they could take a shower, but Neal really didn't seem like he was in the mood. He stripped his underwear and joined Neal, slipping over him to drop down beside him. "I had to be the one to make the decisions in my relationship with him," Neal said. "It felt like he wasn't trying to do anything but keep me around. We never made love like you and I do. It was just fucking and it felt awkward. I felt awkward doing the fucking and it just didn't feel right when he fucked me." His eyes flickered up to Peter's face. "I knew I needed to get out of that for a lot of reasons and I'm glad I did." He bit his lip, looking away. "I, uh, never mentioned it, but he… Dan asked me to marry him once upon a time."

Peter already knew this and Neal seemed to pick up on that, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Dan told me about proposing," he said quietly. "I'm glad you got out of that relationship, too, sweetheart, and not just because I wouldn't have been able to have you to myself otherwise. You deserve to be loved every moment of every day—not just _wanted_ for company or sex."

"You…aren't mad at me for not telling you about his proposal?"

Peter shook his head. "The fact of the matter is, you said no to him for all the right reasons."

"And I said yes to you for all the right reasons," he whispered. Peter smiled when Neal lifted his right hand to stroke Peter's jaw. "I've never felt so loved, wanted, cared for, or safe… I've never felt like that with anyone until I met you." Peter scooted closer, kissing Neal. The younger man closed his eyes, letting Peter have his lips and take his breath away. They parted a few moments later and Neal's eyes opened slowly. "Keller was the only one to know about Nicky. No one else ever saw my son. I couldn't trust anybody with him after Keller left me and especially when I felt like Nicky was threatened indirectly by Dan." He slid his hand over Peter's shoulder, staring up into his eyes. "Peter, you have enough strength to overpower me." Peter's eyes widened and he started to argue that he'd never do that while Neal said, "I know. I know. Shh." Peter quieted down, frowning at Neal. "I'm saying you could easily shove me down onto the bed or against a wall and take me. You could easily break me if you wanted to. I feel intimidated by strong men like you, but I'm also attracted to them." He drew his hand back, sliding it down Peter's chest until it rested on the mattress between them. "You're not that kind of man. You're strong, but you don't use your strength to abuse me. You use it to protect me—to protect our son."

Peter understood what he was saying now. "That's why you trust me so much—with yourself and with Nicky."

Neal nodded. "I couldn't trust anyone else because they used their strength as a fear factor to make me submit. You don't do that to me. You don't put me down, Peter, and make me feel like I'm exactly the same as the dirt you walk on." He smiled softly at his lover. "It's why I know our relationship could make it through any argument. I trust you with my own life and with my son's life. I don't doubt that you'd leap into the most dangerous situation to save me. You've done it before." Peter rested his hand on Neal's hip. "I'm going to marry you because you make me feel like I matter. You don't treat me like an idiot or tell me I'm going crazy over something stupid when I lose it for a little while. You've always been there to take care of me when I'm afraid or when I can't hold it together." Peter's lips parted when Neal's eyes started watering. He didn't want Neal to cry, even if it wasn't because he was hurt or upset. "I feel like I'm worthless a lot of the time, but you always make me feel like I _am_ worth your time and your love. We've had our issues, but we've made it through them. I could never make it this far and feel this way if you weren't the man I've been dreaming about all my life."

Peter stroked his knuckles over Neal's cheek, smiling at his fiancé. "I love you, sweetheart. You're the man I've wanted all my life, too. I…can't imagine myself being with another man." He moved his head closer to Neal's, kissing the younger man's lips for a moment. "I never thought I would be with a man after I married Elizabeth, but then you made a mess of the coffee area and I felt bad for your probie ass." Neal laughed. It was a thoroughly amused laugh, too. "I wouldn't be this happy if I hadn't gone down to see you at that moment. Neal, meeting you was definitely chance, but I'm so glad I was given that chance."

"I'm damaged," Neal said quietly.

"But I can't imagine finding anyone more loving, sensitive, and beautiful—in body and mind—than you." Neal smiled, truly happy. "You've had so much happen to you and you aren't even forty years old yet. I've felt useless when you've had problems I didn't know how to help you with, but—"

"You stayed," Neal said, adoration and admiration coloring his tone. "You could've left me at anytime. You could've called me a nutcase and walked right out of my life, taking my heart with you, but you _stayed._ Nobody would have done that for me but you. Peter, you never make me feel like I'm a terrible person because of my past."

Peter tugged on Neal's body, pulling him on top of himself. "Your past, no matter how hard and upsetting it was, made you this…this wonderful man. I'm proud to call you my boyfriend or my fiancé and I'll be proud to look at you and say, 'that's my husband.'" Neal was crying silently, his tears sliding down his face, dripping down onto Peter's chest. "You are the sweetest, most loving and generous man I've ever met. You were mistreated growing up and through your adult life, too, but I swear to you that I will never become any of them. I won't hurt you like they did because you deserve to be happy, to have someone proud to be with you. I want to make you happy, honey."

Neal rubbed his eyes, laughing lightly. "I know you'll always make me happy. Even if I'm an ass and say hurtful things I don't mean, you'll always make me happy because you'll be right there for me. You won't…" He paused, staring into Peter's eyes. "…abandon me."

"I would never consider that," Peter whispered. The younger man closed his eyes, kissing his lover lazily, yet passionately. Peter's arms slid around Neal's body, holding him close. When Neal slid his mouth away from Peter's and rested his head below Peter's chin, Peter told him, "I don't think I could survive if I left you. I'm too used to you and I've fallen so deeply in love with you." He rested one hand on the back of Neal's head and the other on Neal's lower back, closing his own eyes. "I love you enough to give my life for you. I would give you the world if I could."

There was nothing but sincerity in every word and that was how Neal knew he'd done something right. He'd finally chosen the right man to settle down with, to start a life with. "I know," he whispered, finally believing that, _yes,_ he does deserve Peter. He believes he deserves Peter's love, trust, and loyalty. That was never something he could say about his past lovers. He closed his eyes, breathing quietly, his body rising and falling with each breath Peter took. He _does_ belong here. He _does_ deserve to live this life, to be with this man.


	50. Chapter 50

Peter stood behind Neal, off to his left. They were in the interrogation room together with a man they both _loathed._ "Can't look me in the eyes, my sweet Neal?" Neal grit his teeth, continuing to stare down at the table in front of him. He hadn't been able to bring himself to look at Adler for the twenty minutes they'd been in the room. He was trying to control his terror inwardly so he could focus, but it wasn't working. Every thought went straight back to their 'first time.'

"Just get to the point, Adler," Peter growled. Adler grinned up at Peter. The older man looked worse than he'd been when they'd last seen him at the trial. Peter heard rumors that Adler was getting what was coming for him while in prison. Though Neal was now an adult, he'd been a kid when Adler ruined him. That must've circulated pretty quickly in their community and he believed it after Neal's brief stay in prison. "If you don't tell him—"

Adler reached across the table, his cuffed hands grasping at Neal's. The younger man's eyes widened and he froze. Peter darted over to them and pried Adler's hands off of Neal as Neal regained his ability to move, pushing his chair back and rising from it. "I want to speak to my sweetheart in private," Adler said. "Well, as private as I can get in an FBI building anyway."

Peter watched Neal, seeing the fear in his eyes. Neal's chest heaved like it did when he was terrified and Peter felt terrible. He never should've told Neal that Adler had been brought in despite their lack of response. Peter rested his hand on the small of Neal's back, watching his lover. Neal ducked his head, glancing briefly at Peter. "I'll be all right," he said quietly.

Peter grit his teeth, his jaw clenching tightly. He knew Neal would be anything but okay if he had to be alone with Adler. Neal gave him a small smile and Peter nodded reluctantly, kissing Neal's temple before slowly leaving the room. He immediately went to stand outside of the interrogation room. He could hear and see everything. If Adler hurt his fiancé… There would be hell to pay. "I've missed you," Adler said to Neal. The young man made no response, ignoring him. He sat with his hands folded on the table, avoiding eye contact. "Why can't you look at me? You know I love you, little boy."

Neal's eyes flickered up to Adler's face finally. He scoffed, muttering, "Love." His eyes were hardened and he was trying so desperately to keep himself together. "Love and rape are completely different. You never loved me. All you wanted to do from the moment you met me was get me alone so you could use me."

Adler shrugged and Neal's gut twisted painfully. "I usually made you come," Adler said nonchalantly. "I thought that meant you enjoyed it, especially as you got older. Your erection was simply—"

"I wasn't turned on by you," Neal growled. "My body responded without my consent. I didn't come or get hard because of you. I felt nothing but hatred for you." Adler smiled cruelly at him. "I'm not going to say you didn't cause me pain. You and I both know that would be a lie. You forced me to lie beneath you, forced me to endure the pain as you forced sex on me." He was starting to fall apart and he knew it, but he kept trying to hold the façade together. "What did you want? I was thirteen. What kind of appeal is there to someone who's too young and naïve to know anything about sex?"

The older man leaned forward, his eyes glinting with something that sent fear through Neal's body. "I didn't care about your experience," he said. "You were convenient for the most part. I grew attached to you the more you tried to push me away. Once I got you, I knew you'd always be mine." Neal felt sick just listening to this man. No—this _monster._ "I liked a tight hole and you were absolutely perfect with that fuckable face and—"

A brief flash of Adler raping Nicky made Neal's blood run cold. Neal remembered that Adler threatened to hurt Nicky that way and it would've been for the same reasons. "I'm done." Adler gave him a confused look. "I refuse to listen to you describe me this way." He started to turn to leave and Peter was proud of him for being able to walk away.

"I loved the idea of taking your virginity," Adler called out to him. "I corrupted you, stole your innocence." Neal froze in the doorway and Peter saw the absolute despair on his young lover's face. "I left my mark on you, inside of you. Neal, you'll always be mine."

Neal's eyes closed and Peter nearly ran to pull him out of there. "I lost my virginity to you," Neal said tightly, turning to face the other man, "but I do _not_ belong to you. I'm free while you're locked up, serving a prison sentence for raping me. You took from me something I wanted to give to someone special someday and I'll always resent you for that." Neal breathed _almost_ evenly, his nostrils flaring a bit. "I can't change the fact that you were the first to be inside me, but I can certainly decide on who's going to be the only man inside of me for the rest of my life while you wither away, spending the rest of your days in a cell with men who'd love to kill you for molesting a child."

Adler cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm truly surprised that you didn't turn out to be just like me."

Neal was floored, his lips parting slightly. He took only a moment to school his expression, whispering, "I'm not a monster. I'd never do to a child what you did to me. I can't imagine putting my son in that position, let alone putting someone else's child into it." He realized Adler was taunting him now and he wondered if this was improvement—recognizing the taunts. "Were you raped as a kid?" The expression on Adler's face was of pure disgust and he outright denied that. "So you're just a sadistic bastard," Neal deadpanned.

"And you're my bitch."

In that moment, Neal felt stronger than he had ever felt in Adler's presence. He still felt like the thirteen year old boy who'd been forced into multiple, uncomfortable sexual positions with this man, but he also felt like he'd grown up enough to be able to move past this. If he kept letting himself drift back into the past, he'd never be able to live his life in the present. He surged forward and slammed his hands on the table in front of Adler, startling the older man. "I'm no one's bitch. I will _not_ let you get inside my head anymore. You're going straight to hell for what you did to me." Peter was frozen outside of the room, watching Neal become someone he didn't recognize. "You were in every nightmare I had for twenty years, twisting my mind and destroying my body. There was never trust or love between us. You knew I hated you from the start. You turned my mother against me and I hated you more." He hit the table as he straightened up. "You don't deserve to live, but I can't enforce a death sentence. As Peter's always said: death would be too merciful." Peter was stunned when he realized Adler was actually looking at Neal with a mild amount of fear in his expression. "You deserve to suffer and I'm going to watch you die painfully one day. I'm going to be there the day you finally die and just _watch._"

"Neal—"

Neal growled, "You _will_ feel how much I suffered. I guarantee you that. You will know what it feels like to be ripped apart from the inside out, to have no self-esteem, to value yourself less than you thought possible." He was seething and Peter didn't know if he should interfere. Peter was slightly afraid of the man Neal was in that room and he wondered how long Neal kept that part of him dormant. "I'm not going to ask someone to rape you to justify what you did to me." He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Oh, fuck no. I'm going to make you regret ever coming into my life. I'm going to make you regret all the times you called me a whore—all the times you told me I was nothing but a tight ass to fuck." Even his smile was bitter. "Just you wait, Vincent. Just you wait. The remainder of your days will be your most miserable."

Adler was absolutely terrified, knowing Neal could use his status in the FBI to carry out his threats. He didn't know what Neal was truly capable because he'd never assumed Neal would stand up for himself when they came face to face again. He thought Neal would crumble and run away, but Neal persevered. "You're not that man. You can't do any of that unless you're willing to become _me._"

Neal gave him a wry smile. "Don't hold your breath," he whispered. "Just keep your mouth open and suck it all in, right? Use your own advice now, Vincent. I'm not running away this time. I'm going to destroy you in ways you can't imagine and I'm not talking about _physical_ destruction." He was beginning to leave, wanting to be with Peter more than anything right now, but one last remark came to mind. He turned to face Adler, smiling. "Remember: it's done with the best of intentions and with the most satisfying amount of endearment. You raped me out of 'love,' and I'm going to show you what I can do with my hatred." With that, he left. He didn't need to hear or say anything else. He'd said his piece and he felt…strange.

Peter startled him when he rounded the corner. His fiancé looked overly concerned and Neal understood why. He subconsciously knew Peter would be there to witness everything he'd just said, but he'd said it all anyway. "Neal, what…what was all of that?" Peter asked tentatively, reaching out to hold Neal's hands in his.

"I'm going to destroy him," Neal whispered. "I'm done running. I'm done letting him torment me and control my life." He squeezed Peter's hands. "I'm not going to let him ruin our future together, Peter. I'm cutting all ties to Adler so I can bind myself solely to you."

•◊•

"I need your help, Moz." Mozzie nodded, silently telling Neal what he already knew. Mozzie wouldn't hesitate to help him. "Do you… Okay, first of all, Peter can't know we had this conversation. Deal?" The shorter man nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "All right. Now, do you still have that…'mind melt machine'?"

The balding man raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "As a matter of fact, I do. I've hidden it in our warehouse with all of our…assets."

Neal nodded. "Well, I just need to use this one. You're positive that it still works?"

Mozzie scoffed. "You doubt my tests?" Neal rolled his eyes. "Yes, Neal. I tried it recently on one of my enemies. It works—had him screaming like a hungry infant."

Neal grimaced. "Don't remind me of that," he muttered. "I'm perfectly content with Nicky screaming at me with words rather than being unable to tell me what he wants." Mozzie chuckled. "All right. I'm going to put those…skills…you taught me to use. I need to borrow it."

"May I ask who you're planning on scaring the shit out of?"

"Adler," Neal said, his voice tight. He was challenging Mozzie, just waiting to see if Mozzie would try to talk him out of it.

Instead, the response he received was: "I'll go get it and have it to you before the night's out."

Neal smiled at his best friend. "Thanks, Moz. I appreciate it." Mozzie smiled tentatively up at his brother. He wondered why this thought came up all of a sudden and Neal seemed to gather that from Mozzie's expression. "Adler decided to pay me a visit at work, so I gave him hell and promised there'd be more." Mozzie's eyebrows rose to his nonexistent hairline and Neal gave him an exasperated look. "I need this. I know it's illegal, which is why Peter can't know, and I know it's cruel. Moz, he made me think today. He took my virginity from me. He took something important from me that I can never give to anyone else. I couldn't save it for Peter because Adler _stole_ it."

"Since when is your virginity so impor—?"

"—Since I realized that I could be dead right now if he'd given me AIDS. Peter wouldn't have done to me what Adler did. Adler took no precautions at all and it could've been worse than just coming out of the whole thing with a lot of emotional scarring and an STD." He ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he'd just broken into their warehouse instead of asking Mozzie for it. He knew he was being…insane, for lack of better terminology, but he felt that he had a right to serve justice. Though his method was questionable, he truly believed he would make Adler feel the way Adler made him feel—inadequate, worthless, stupid, and afraid.

Mozzie didn't know what to say. Something wasn't right with Neal though. This wasn't the man he'd taken in and practically raised as his own—though their relationship became more of a brotherly companionship than that of a father-son relationship. The man in front of him was looking for revenge in a cruel way. Mozzie was being hypocritical since he'd used it for the same purpose, but this just wasn't _Neal._ The young man was never violent unless he absolutely had to be. This was beyond that point—so far beyond it, and Mozzie wondered if the Neal he knew and loved was gone.

Neal was left alone after Mozzie went across town to the warehouse to grab the device Neal requested. He stood on the pier overlooking the water. The sunset coming down on it looked beautiful, as beautiful as an artwork—a masterpiece. His eyes slowly turned away from the distant sunset and he'd focused on the water in front of him. The rippling water was mesmerizing him and he desperately wanted to feel it and sink into it.

Something told him that this was wrong, that his thoughts were wrong, but he couldn't control himself. He hated who he was for so many reasons. He hated the person he became in front of Adler. He felt like he was one step closer to _becoming_ Adler and that scared him. He was afraid of what Peter thought about him after seeing a part of him he'd never seen before. Neal showed his anger on several occasions and he'd been resentful of his mother, but he'd never outright claimed he wanted to destroy someone like he'd done in the interrogation room. Staring into the water, he wondered if this was one way to test his limits.

Without looking back to see if anyone were watching, he stepped off of the pier and fell into the water, forcing himself beneath its surface. The coolness of the water chilled him. With his eyes closed, he didn't have to see the watery blur. He could see Peter's smiling face one last time. Here, he couldn't cry. He didn't need to cry. He needed to relax and let it happen. The water covered his tears.

•◊•

Peter sat in the waiting room at the hospital, his face red and tearstained. He had no idea how any of this happened or why. He knew he shouldn't have let Neal leave the apartment alone. He just felt like something terrible was going to happen and he hated that he was right. Looking at the white set of doors in front of him, he choked back another sob. He'd gotten the call and answered without expecting anything in particular, but he only registered two things: _Neal_ and _suicide attempt._

Mozzie was sitting with him while Elizabeth watched over Mike and Nicky. He was eternally grateful to Mozzie because _Mozzie_ found Neal before it was too late. "How did this happen?" Peter murmured into his palms after covering his face. He really wanted to understand this, but… "I just can't believe he left the apartment feeling this way."

"I don't know, Peter. He wasn't himself when he came to me. I'm so glad I forgot my phone. Otherwise, I would've crossed town and returned only to find him…" _Dead._ The word hung over them silently, teasing them with the disconcerting possibilities.

By the time they were allowed into the room, only one visitor was allowed at a time and Mozzie told Peter to go in. Neal was still unconscious when the older man entered the room. He stood over the bed, looking at how the nurses had wrapped Neal up in blankets. The only thing he'd heard before he knew whether or not Neal was alive was that his body was cold and he'd stopped breathing in the ambulance. At that moment in time, he'd literally fallen to his knees and sobbed, thinking he'd lost the man he loves with his heart and soul. When he'd been informed that Neal was alive, he wanted so desperately to be in the room to actually see it for himself.

He wanted to be angry at Neal for doing this, but he couldn't bring himself to feel like that. There must have been a reason that Neal hadn't realized until he'd already made the decision. He was so thankful that the man on the bed in front of him was breathing, his eyelids fluttering every now and then. He leaned over the younger man, kissing his forehead, shutting his eyes tightly to allow himself to cry once again. He'd promised Neal that he'd never leave him, but he should have asked _Neal_ to make that promise as well.

Mozzie went home to spend the night with Nicky while Peter stayed overnight in Neal's hospital room. He listened to the beeping machines, watching Neal's heart rate on the screen while listening to Neal breathe. He'd fallen asleep at some point and was woken up when he heard, "Peter?" Peter's eyes flew open and he sat up, marks on his face from where he'd rested it on his arms. "Where… What happened?" Before Peter even had the chance to answer, realization dawned on Neal. He looked terrified as he stared at Peter. "Love, I-I… I don't..."

Peter shook his head, standing up. He hovered over the bed, pressing his lips against Neal's to give him a soft kiss. "Rest. We'll talk about this later." He stroked Neal's hair, giving him a small smile while tears slid down his cheeks. Neal looked exasperated and the look of terror wouldn't go away either. Peter was trying to be reassuring, comforting, even though he had no answers or explanations. He could have lost Neal forever and he'd never have known why. Now, he had the chance to ask—not right at that moment, but he could ask nonetheless and he would. He wanted to know why Neal was so willing to leave him when he was readily available whenever Neal needed him.

"I…I…" Neal's eyes fluttered a bit before he finally closed them. Peter sighed, knowing Neal was asleep when his head lolled to the side a bit. He just kept his eyes on the other man, fearing that if he looked away for even a _second,_ Neal would be gone. He sat down in the chair and pulled it back to where it'd been when he was asleep. He laid his arms on the mattress, staring at his lover. It frightened him, thinking Neal had come closer this time. If not for Mozzie, Neal would have lost all of his oxygen and asphyxiated himself underwater and he was pretty much at that point when Mozzie pulled him out.

Peter reached over to stroke Neal's hair, slowly carding his fingers through the strands as though it were fragile and the slightest amount of too much pressure would make them crumble. "I don't know why you did this to yourself," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss Neal's forearm, "but I promise I'll try to help you through this." He felt ridiculous for talking to himself, but it felt better to think he was talking to Neal. "I don't want to lose you, sweetheart. I'll do _anything_ to get you past this."

•◊•

After Neal was discharged from the hospital and his seventy-two hour suicide watch, Peter was able to take him home. The ride home was quiet, but Peter made sure Neal knew he was there for him, clutching Neal's hand and stroking Neal's skin with his thumb. "You've been wondering why I did it," Neal said quietly. Peter didn't respond. He hadn't said a word about it. He kept Neal up to date on their cases and brought Nicky in when Neal was in a decent mood. He didn't say a word about the suicide attempt. "I don't have any reasonable explanation for it, but I didn't feel like myself. I felt like someone else. I felt like…like Adler."

"Hon, we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," Peter said gently, hearing the slight tremor in Neal's voice. He could feel the tension in Neal's hand and a quick look at him was enough as well—his jaw was locked, his shoulders tense.

Neal was quiet again. Peter thought about what Neal said and wondered why Neal felt like Adler. He figured it had to do with the conversation they'd had in the interrogation room. He wondered if Neal felt like he'd become someone as cruel and heartless as his step-father, which was _ridiculous._ There wasn't a bad bone in Neal's body. "I wanted to destroy his mind," Neal whispered, staring at the dashboard. "I was willing to go to extreme lengths to do just that. I can't give you a good explanation for the suicide attempt other than I might've been afraid of the person I was turning into." Peter nodded, understanding because he'd already thought this through. "I'm sorry that I almost succeeded. I'm sorry for doing it in the first place."

Peter flipped his turning signal on and pulled over on the right side beside the sidewalk. He put the car into park and lifted Neal's hand, kissing his knuckles. "I don't want you to apologize to me," he said softly. "I'm not in your mind, honey. I can't see how much you're torturing yourself because of what he did to you, but I'm sure you're hurting yourself more than any angry or resentful thing I could say would." Neal finally looked at Peter and the older man was startled by how dull Neal's brilliant, blue eyes were. "I love you more than you know and I was scared, Neal. Mozzie called me and told me… Honey, that was the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced because the chances of you dying were so likely." He frowned, watching Neal war with himself inside. He could see the battle between his self-loathing and self-appreciation and the self-loathing was winning. "I didn't see you when you were brought in, but I heard things that made me think you were dead. I'm not saying _anything_ to purposely hurt you, but I felt like my whole world fell apart when I made that assumption."

Neal rubbed his eyes, clearly unwanted tears beginning to streak down his face. "I'm sorry. I should've just gone home to you. I should've just gone home… I should've talked to you…"

He kept repeating himself and Peter eventually had to ask him to stop talking and breathe. Neal had begun to hyperventilate before that and Peter knew it was building up to a panic attack. "It happened, hon. We can't change that. All we can do is move beyond it and I want to help you get there." He unbuckled Neal's belt and then his own before leaning over to hug Neal as best he could until Neal returned the embrace. "We aren't going to keep thinking about what could've happened. You're breathing and alive. That's all that matters to me."

Neal audibly cried against Peter now, his tears soaking through Peter's shirt. "I'm so sorry," he whispered brokenly. "I never meant to do this. I never wanted to do that—or hurt us. If I'd drowned, I would've left you and our baby and all of our friends… I would've lost the life I want to live with you. I'd never see Nick grow up and graduate high school or bring his first girlfriend over or see him eventually get married and have children. I'd never get to grow old at your side or make love with you again." Peter was stroking his hair, his lips pressed against Neal's neck. "I'd never get to kiss you or hold you or be kissed and held by you again. We'd never have gotten married. I would never become your fucked-in-the-head husband or—"

"Hey," Peter whispered, sliding his hand down Neal's back. "Hey. Don't do that." He kissed Neal's neck before pulling back to look at him. Neal's eyes were red and full of tears. "Don't think about any of that. You're going to experience everything you just said because your suicide attempt failed. I promised you I'd never leave you and I'm keeping that promise." He stroked Neal's cheeks slowly, holding his lover's gaze. It was difficult to stay calm and rational with such dead eyes looking back into his own. "I want _you_ to promise _me_ you won't leave me now," Peter whispered. "You tell me you can't live without me and now I'm telling you that I can't live without you, darling."

Neal nodded, mumbling hoarsely, "I promise." He wasn't happy with that, so he cleared his throat and tried again, speaking stronger when he said, "I _promise._" He didn't want to put Peter in this position again. He didn't want to lie to and hide this from Nick. His own son didn't know his father was suicidal and he wouldn't completely understand the reasons why. Peter understood and he wanted to help. Neal wanted his help. "Can I ask you what you have Nick believing?" he asked tentatively.

Peter gave him a small, sad smile, grasping at Neal's hand. "I've just been telling him you needed some time to relax. He doesn't know what happened and I felt like it wasn't my place to tell him." He looked away from Neal and down at their hands. "You're his father and my husband-to-be. I won't tell him something you don't want him to know because I respect you, hon."

"Thank you," Neal whispered. "I don't think I can tell him until he's a little bit older. He doesn't need to grow up worrying about his lunatic of a father. I should honestly be in an asylum, as much as I hate to say that."

Peter shook his head, meeting Neal's eyes again. "Neal, I'm going to give you the bullshit you don't want to hear. You went through a traumatic experience." Neal sighed. He really hated being told that everything he did was justified by the fact that he was traumatized. He didn't want to hide behind that. He knew he had problems, but he didn't want them to have a label such as 'trauma.' "I don't think I could be as strong as you've been. You left everything you knew at sixteen and worked your way up in the world to become a great father, an FBI agent, and my lover. I always tell you that there are people who've gone through similar situations who can't live with themselves." He kept his eyes locked onto Neal's, holding his attention to make him understand and _listen._ "I know you're disgusted by yourself. I don't like hearing you say such shitty things because I know you're a God damn angel. I don't know why this all had to happen to you, but I know you can make it past everything. You survived twenty years with this pain sitting on your shoulders, Neal. I think—no, I know you can make it. I have so much faith in you, Neal."

"I feel like that faith is misplaced," he said, lowering his gaze.

"It isn't." He lifted his hand to stroke Neal's jaw. "I look at you and tell myself I've never been happier in my life and I'd never be this happy if I hadn't met you." He leaned forward, kissing Neal gently. He wanted Neal to start seeing himself as Peter saw him. "I've hurt you several times myself and I could've lost you when I _immensely_ insulted you, but you're still with me. You forgave me for being a dick, Neal. I'm eternally grateful for that and I always will be." Neal was forcing a smile and Peter could see that. He knew Neal liked hearing these things, but he also knew the timing of his compliments wasn't what Neal liked. "You love me even though I treated you like shit. I want you to know that I love you unconditionally. The fact that you were able to tell me two years ago that you were raped when you were young meant you trusted me and I don't ever want to do anything to lose that trust."

Neal was the one to lean forward to initiate the kiss this time. His lips trembled and he gasped quietly when he pressed his forehead against Peter's. The older man knew Neal was crying. He kept one hand intertwined with Neal's and the other stroked Neal's cheek. "Peter, you could be the next person to rape me and I strongly believe I'd still trust you." Peter started to argue that point and Neal shushed him. "I know you'll never force me. I'm just saying." He wiped his face with his free hand, exhaling shakily. "I trust you a lot, Peter. I'd do anything to make you trust me. It…hurts when you don't." He bowed his head until Peter gently lifted his chin. When his eyes met Peter's once again, the younger man continued speaking. "I want to marry you, Peter, because you're the man I dreamt about as a kid. You're my knight in shining armor and you rescued me from _so_ many things…"

"Because that's what people do when they love someone," Peter whispered, kissing Neal softly. "I love you, hon. I'll always save you and do my best to protect you." Neal nodded, believing his fiancé entirely. "You earned the right to have someone love you as you are and I'm the one who will always love you no matter what happens." He lifted Neal's left hand, kissing his knuckles. "Always—I promise."


	51. Chapter 51

Neal sat nervously on the couch, wringing his hands roughly. Peter was pacing in front of him and it was making him feel uneasy. Neal planned this, so he really didn't think he had a right to be nervous or afraid. He had Peter on his side. That was what mattered to him. He already knew where his mother stood on the issue, but he had no idea what his father would think. He was, as Peter put it, a 'wildcard.' "Could you stop?" he asked, exasperated, staring up at his fiancé. Peter did immediately and took a seat beside Neal. "I'm nervous enough. The pacing was suffocating me."

"Sorry, hon," he whispered, leaning over to kiss Neal. Neal closed his eyes even though the kiss was brief. He kept his eyes closed and rested his forehead against Peter's. "It'll be all right though. Your mother will be dismissed almost immediately. I'm worried about your father's reaction." Peter rested his hand on Neal's thigh and Neal opened his eyes. "I always thought my dad would hit me if I told him I'm gay. He really surprised me when he accepted you so graciously."

Neal smiled. "I know how worried you were. I was relieved that he didn't get angry or hurt you." He slid his hand up Peter's thigh, then slowly up Peter's abdomen. "If my dad decides to hit me, at least I'll know where I stand with him. My mother's probably brainwashed him since Thanksgiving. I can only imagine the shit she's told him about me."

Peter shook his head. "Don't go in assuming he knows you. He probably doesn't know much aside from the obvious. I highly doubt she divulged your life story to him of all people."

"Thanks, Peter." He rubbed Peter's sternum, lowering his eyes to look at how hard Peter's muscles were through the shirt.

"A bit distracted today?" Peter teased, catching his drifting gaze. Neal blushed, but didn't look away. He kept his eyes on Peter. "I'll make love to you after your parents leave if you'd like me to."

Neal cocked an eyebrow, giving his lover a wry smile. "Whether things go well or not, you and I are ending up in bed afterwards." Peter chuckled, nodding.

At some point, Peter turned on a game for them to watch. He sat eagerly, his focus on the television screen. Neal curled up against him, very disinterested. He couldn't get into sports. He understood most of what Peter was teaching Nicky about baseball and Peter was teaching them both how to play a few different sports. The only one Neal found himself actually kind of good at was soccer. He hates basketball and baseball, but Peter loves both. He doesn't mind football because he understands everything being said there.

Peter looked down at Neal and smiled. He loved that Neal feigned interest just to stay with him. Just as he slid his hand up and down Neal's back, there was a knock on the door. Neal slowly sat up while Peter leapt off of the couch to answer. As soon as he opened the door, he heaved a sigh of relief. "Ellen."

Neal pushed himself up and went to see the woman he called his mom. "Hello, sweethearts." She hugged Peter, rubbing his back, before turning to give Neal a similar hug.

"Thank you for coming," Neal said quietly. "It means a lot to me—to us."

"I wouldn't leave you alone with them both," she said, patting his cheek. "I don't know who James is anymore. Even I find him unpredictable." Neal led her over to the couch, sitting down with her. "Speaking of which, when are they supposed to show up?"

As Peter was going to answer, another knock hit the door. "Now, apparently," Peter whispered. He opened the door to see Neal's parents. "Maryann, James," he said, nodding his head. They both came in with a murmured 'hello.'

Neal and Ellen rose to their feet again. Ellen stood protectively beside Neal on one side and Peter took up the other. "Hello, Neal," James said quietly.

Neal nodded, uncertain about what to call his father. Peter took Neal's left hand, holding it. He didn't like it, but he was helping Neal hide the ring just in case his father reacted negatively before they could speak. He could handle losing a bit of his pride in that ring being on Neal's finger if he had to protect Neal. "Can I ask you how you feel about my relationship with Peter?" Neal asked quietly, glancing at his father.

The older man looked between the two in front of him. "Honestly, I always saw you with a young, brunette girl," he said. "But I don't mind that you're with a man, if that's what you're asking." Neal nodded slowly. "Neal, you don't have to worry about what I think of you—both of you. My brother, your uncle, is gay."

"I've never met him."

"I know." He gave Maryann a brief, pointed glare.

Neal looked up at Peter, silently asking him what he should do. In response, Peter played with Neal's ring and nodded. Their hands separated and Neal took a deep breath before holding his left hand up, showing his parents the ring. "Peter and I are engaged."

Ellen was smiling, her hand resting on the small of Neal's back. Peter watched James and was startled when James surged forward. He meant to stop James, thinking he was going to hit Neal, but James simply pulled his son into an embrace. Neal wasn't sure what to do, but he did return the embrace, smiling a little. "Congratulations, son," he whispered into the crook of Neal's neck.

"You can't get married," Maryann said adamantly. "I won't allow you to do this to your life, Neal. You'll be miserable and you'll never be able to legally call yourselves 'husbands.'"

Neal's eyebrows rose to his hairline in disbelief. "You won't _allow_ me?" He backed away from his father and gave his mother all of his attention. "You lost your right to boss me around a _long_ time ago. I'm not even your son. I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions." He held his left hand up. "I said yes. I didn't need your permission to say yes to my boyfriend's proposal. That was for me to decide."

"You're deluded if you think the world will ever accept and recognize your relationship. Your marriage won't be anything but an idea. It won't be put onto paper." She looked at James in disbelief and anger. "How are you all right with this? Your own son… Have you no pride?"

James turned on her as Neal and Peter thought he'd turn on Neal. It was a slightly shocking turnaround. "Have I no pride? I didn't get to watch my son grow up. I didn't get to see him graduate high school." Neal cringed a bit at that. "I want to be able to see him get married and have his happily ever after."

She scoffed. "Happily ever after." Shaking her head, she growled, "He can't have a happily ever after. He's nothing but a prostitute."

"_I'm_ nothing but a prostitute?" he asked. "Last I knew, your marriage only existed because he had money to offer you and a roof to put over your head."

Peter gently gripped Neal's shoulder, trying to keep a safe distance between him and his mother. "I gave you a home, Neal. I did it because of you."

Pain sparked in his eyes. Ellen chose that moment to interject, "Maryann, nothing you did was for your boy." Her hand returned to Neal's lower back. "He ran to me when he was scared as a boy. He never told me what he told you until many, many years later, but I couldn't do anything for him because he was too afraid to help himself. Peter's supported him through this a hundred times more than you have and they've only been together for two years. Neal was your boy for sixteen years before he ran." She looked like she was about ready to hit Maryann. "He never told anyone because he was afraid of what would happen to you if Adler knew he talked. You hurt him beyond repair and he still cared enough to stay silent."

She didn't look like she believed Ellen and Neal wasn't surprised. "Neal, you aren't even _gay,_" she said bitterly. "You're confused about your sexuality because of what Adler did and I think you need to step back and look at your life. You have a son, Neal. You were with a woman. You need to figure yourself out before making a mistake. 'Marrying' Peter is a mistake."

"Don't you _dare_ tell me what my sexuality is," he snarled. "Peter knows more about me than you do. If I wanted to be with women, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You need to accept the fact that I'm in love with Peter and that we're going to get married when it's legal." Peter was slightly offended by what Neal's mother was implying. She made it sound like he had no choice to be anything other than gay.

"You're not a fag! No son of mine could ever—"

Neal threw his arms out to his sides. "Too fucking late!" he cried. "Mike's straight. Go talk to him. Maybe he'll invite you to his wedding." He paused, laughing a moment later. "Then again, maybe not. His loyalties changed when the truth came out."

James gave Neal a perplexed look. "Who's Mike?"

"My half-brother. His father is a fucking monster. That's why he's on my side. Vincent actually admitted to him that he'd…that he'd done _that_ to me." Peter heard the slight tremor in Neal's voice, realizing he was trying not to slip back into dark thoughts. He'd been doing very well since he came home from the hospital—and that was two weeks ago. It was nearly the end of July now—July twenty-second to be exact.

Ellen gently nudged Neal back a bit and he didn't hesitate to shift closer to Peter. "You're both to blame for the scars he has to live with for the rest of his life," she accused, staring at Maryann and James alternatively. "Maryann, you were a whore, even when you settled down with James and had Neal. I bet James doesn't know about the men you saw on the side." Maryann looked stunned. James looked at her like he expected better from his ex-wife. "And _you,_" she said, turning her gaze entirely towards James. "You should have thought about your son's life before you killed a man and stole evidence!" Peter slid his arm around Neal's waist. He already knew about what Neal's father did and Neal was aware of some of the details. "You were both selfish. Maryann, I asked you to sign Neal over to me. I would have given him a life he deserved. I wouldn't have allowed a man like Vincent to set foot inside my home, especially if Neal were living with me."

"You don't understand," Maryann pleaded. "Vincent loves me. I know he does."

Neal nearly left at that moment. He didn't think he could handle her delusion. Peter was the only reason he stayed put. "After what he did to your _son,_ how could you possibly think that he loves you?"

James looked at Neal, genuine concern in his expression. "What did Vincent do to my son?"

"Nothing," Neal murmured, turning to press his face into the crook of Peter's neck. Peter rested his hands on Neal's back.

His father turned on Maryann. "What did he do to Neal, Maryann?"

She deflected, telling him it was Neal's own fault and he kept pressing her for the answer until Neal finally snapped and cried out, "He raped me!" He straightened up, though Peter kept his hands on Neal. "He raped me," he repeated. James looked horrified. "I was thirteen."

James was torn between screaming at Maryann for her sheer idiocy and pulling Neal into his arms to hold the little boy he'd seen the morning everything went wrong who was now a grown man with a little boy of his own. "Did you know about this when it was going on?" Maryann looked away, frowning. "Did you know?" he asked again.

"Yes," she said tightly. "I knew he was going to do it before he took Neal away for the day." Neal's eyes widened and watered. She _never_ told him that. "He said he'd kill me if I called the police, Neal, so you would've wound up in the same situation regardless."

Peter and James were both appalled. "How could you listen to your own son cry and scream while he was being used for _sex?_" Peter accused. "How the hell do you live with yourself?"

Neal's teeth were grinding and Peter swore he could hear it. "Get out," Neal said, his voice level for the moment. When she made no move, he surged forward and pulled the door open, slamming it back against the wall. "Get out!" he cried, pain and anger in his eyes. "This is the absolute _last_ time I will see or speak to you!"

"You can't deny me my grandbaby—"

"I'm his father! You're fucking delusional if you think I'm going to let you into my home with my family after this!" He was shaking and Peter was beyond concerned at this point. He'd never seen Neal look so hurt before and he's been there for a _lot._ "Get out!" he yelled. She thought about making a smart remark, but she must've realized Neal would hurt her if she didn't leave, so she ran out as quickly as she could to get away. Neal slammed the door shut and stood with his back to everyone else.

Peter stepped forward, whispering, "Neal." As soon as his hand touched between Neal's shoulder blades, he crumbled to the floor. He fell to his knees and covered his face with one hand and sobbed. Peter knelt beside him, wrapping his arms around the younger man. He didn't know how to console Neal this time. It seemed damn near impossible because this was the _worst_ he's been hurt. His physical pain was nothing in comparison to the absolute betrayal he felt. Peter refused to tell Neal everything would be all right because Neal wouldn't believe him. Neal was getting accustomed to things popping out at random to hurt him and Peter hated that. Neal shouldn't expect bad things to happen. "I've got you," he whispered. "I've got you, honey." Neal slumped against Peter and Peter shifted Neal to make them both more comfortable.

Peter sat down on the floor and held Neal against his chest, letting Neal soak his shirt. Peter looked up at Ellen and she had tears streaming down her face as well. She looked so hurt—almost as hurt as Neal. "James," she said quietly, "I think it'd be best if you left."

"I'm not going to leave him like this," he said.

Peter kissed Neal's hair, trying to keep himself from tearing up. He had to be Neal's support right now. He couldn't fall apart, not even a little bit. "Honey, is there anything I can do for you?" Peter asked gently.

Neal sounded like he was hyperventilating. He gripped Peter's shirt tightly, whispering, "Gonna be sick." Peter was quick to respond. He pulled Neal up with him and got him to the kitchen sink quickly, where he got _really_ sick.

James stood beside Ellen, watching everything happen. He had no idea that his son's life had been affected this badly. He didn't understand why Neal resented his mother until _now._ He watched Peter take care of Neal, one arm bracing Neal's chest to hold him up as Neal's arms shook against the countertop, and the other rubbing up and down Neal's back. "I love you," Peter whispered, "so much, Neal."

"I-I love you," Neal stammered. His right hand flew up to clutch the hand Peter had on Neal's chest.

A few hours later, everyone was home and Peter was cooking dinner. Ellen and James stayed, concerned about Neal. Michael was sitting beside Neal on the couch, watching something totally random that neither of them cared about. Neal wrapped himself in one of their lighter blankets. It wasn't because he was cold. He wanted to hide his body away from everyone. He felt uncomfortable with himself, but he was trying to be as social as he could manage with his family. He was leaning against Michael, his head resting on his younger brother's shoulder. Michael was just as worried about his brother and he was grateful to be allowed into his personal space. He was surprised that Neal let him drape an arm over his shoulders. Neal hadn't said much since his mother left. He said 'hi' when Nicky came home and offered to help Nicky with his homework and was glad Nicky let him help because he really needed to get his mind off of things.

James and Ellen sat at the kitchen table, trying to civilly discuss things and piece together the years they'd spent apart. Nicky sat with them now, listening to them talk about things he didn't really understand.

Neal rubbed his face and Michael looked down at him. "You okay?"

"No," Neal whispered hoarsely. "I'm exhausted and pissed off." Michael nodded. He tentatively began to stroke Neal's hair. He'd seen Peter do this to calm Neal down and he hoped he'd be able to make him feel a little better.

"Just so you know, nobody supports her," Michael said quietly. "We're all here for you if you need us."

Neal laughed half-heartedly. "I appreciate that, little brother, but I'll be fine."

Peter served dinner, managing to persuade Neal to eat at the table with them instead of sitting alone on the couch. James kept glancing at Neal, watching his son. Neal's face was splotchy and he sniffled a bit. "Neal?" Neal warily looked at his father. "I know this probably won't matter, but I want to say it anyway: I love you, son."

Peter watched his lover's lips curve into what looked like a smile even though he was miserable. "Love you, too, dad." Neal felt more comfortable around his father, comfortable enough to call him dad. They all ate in silence and everyone glanced at Neal every now and then. When Neal dropped his fork on his plate and held his head in both hands, everyone got really concerned. "Should I just leave so you don't have to look at me?"

"No," Peter said, leaning over to kiss Neal's temple.

"You know how I feel about pity," he muttered.

Peter's lips parted. "Hon, this isn't pity." He rested his hand on Neal's back. "We're concerned and upset. Don't start thinking we're disgusted by you, please. There's no reason."

Neal shook his head, sighing. "For once, I wish you'd just tell me I'm disgusting," he whispered. Peter kissed Neal's neck twice and Neal sighed again. Peter was about to kiss his cheek when Neal dropped his hands away from his face and leaned towards Peter, kissing his lips. Nicky grinned at them from across the table. When the two men parted for breath, Neal tried to peck Peter's lips a few times. "Thanks for loving me so much." He spoke so quietly and Peter wanted to scream to the world that he loved Neal more than anything.

"Always," Peter whispered, kissing the corner of Neal's mouth. "You'll always have my love."

"That's why you're my Superman."

James smiled at the exchange. He can't remember ever having seen a couple this in love. Nowadays, it was a rare occurrence. Most people were just looking for a quickie or were desperate and threw themselves at everyone they saw. He saw true love between his son and Peter. Peter showed it when he took care of Neal earlier, when he'd helped him into the bathroom to clean his face and mouth. He respected Peter because Peter respected Neal. Even he wasn't sure if he'd stay if he had a lover with issues like Neal's. Peter didn't look like he ever wanted to leave Neal's side.

Peter bumped noses with Neal, making the younger man laugh lightly. "There's the sun," Peter whispered, smiling at his lover. Neal liked when Peter used that comparison. It made him feel pretty good. Peter loved when he laughed or smiled and he'd endearingly called it the 'sunrise' one day when Neal was particularly depressed and it stuck. Neal gave him a dazzling smile, his eyes lighting up. The sight of Neal's liveliness made Peter's heart speed up. That was so much nicer to see than dead and dull eyes.

Later in the evening, Neal was laying down on Nicky's bed with his son. Nicky wanted to cuddle with him and Neal was more than happy to indulge him. Peter and Michael sat in the sitting area with James and Ellen. James' fingers were steepled, his elbows resting on his knees as he gazed in the direction of Nicky's room. "If I'm allowed to ask, does he have…episodes like the one he had earlier very often?"

Peter gave him a leveled glare. "He isn't crazy," Peter growled. James raised his hands, proclaiming innocence. "He's been hurt too many times to count. You don't realize how hard it is to keep him alive sometimes."

"He's…?"

Peter nodded and James looked distraught. "What did you expect? He's a rape victim, James, and Maryann told him something no child wants to hear from their mother—no matter the age. Every time he starts to feel better about himself or us or _anything,_ something has to knock him down. It isn't fair to him and it really crushes him." James nodded, frowning. He wanted to get up, walk into Nicky's room, and pull his son and grandson into a tight embrace.

At that moment, Neal slipped out of Nicky's room. He tugged at the collar of his shirt when he realized everyone's eyes were on him. Peter moved, but James moved faster. He pulled his son into a hug, startling the young man. "I'm sorry for leaving you," he whispered into the crook of Neal's neck. "I can never tell you how sorry I am." Neal stared at Peter and Peter could see the immediate fear flicker across Neal's expression.

"James—let him go, please," he tried to say gently. James did, backing away quickly while Neal stayed in place, staring at Peter. Peter stepped closer, holding his hands out. Once Neal let him get close enough, Peter lifted his hands and stroked Neal's hair. "You're okay. I promise."

Neal blinked rapidly, nodding. He kept his eyes on Peter, getting upset with himself for acting so pathetic around his family. Slowly, Peter pulled Neal closer, holding him against his chest. Neal closed his eyes then, resting against the man he trusted more than anyone in the world.

•◊•

Neal woke up around three-thirty in a cold sweat, his chest heaving. He bent his knees and held his head. He felt tears sliding down his cheeks and quickly wiped them away. He was tired of feeling worthless. He meant nothing to his own mother as she proved to him earlier. She cared more about her own life than she did about his. Palming the tears away, he breathed shakily.

He was really beginning to hate his life—or at least parts of it. He didn't tell Peter that he still considered committing suicide because Peter worried about him enough. Together, they'd discovered through lengthy conversations alone that Neal tried to drown himself in order to keep himself from doing something very uncharacteristic of himself. Peter never considered Neal a violent person and he'd told Neal that when they talked about how he compared himself to his step-father.

Adler's been silent since he left him in the interrogation room that day. For that, he was grateful. He didn't think he could handle another confrontation with him calmly right now. He never wanted to kill anyone, but Adler made him _want_ it. It wasn't like he was randomly murdering people. He'd only killed Adler repeatedly in his mind—and Craig, but less often than Adler.

A hand slid up his leg and he startled, looking down at Peter. "Hey," the older man whispered sleepily. "You okay?"

Neal considered telling him he was fine, that Peter should go back to sleep, but this man deserved to know how he felt. That was part of the trust factor between them. He couldn't hide his darker thoughts from Peter if he wanted Peter's trust. "No," he admitted. Peter lifted himself up a bit, rubbing his eyes. "I haven't been very honest about this with you," he said tentatively, frowning. "I've been…thinking about killing myself." Peter looked upset when he said that and he really couldn't blame Peter. "…A lot."

Now Peter was sitting up beside him. "Do you have a reason or is it just…just a thought?"

"I don't like the person I've become," he whispered. "You heard me when I was alone with Adler. Peter, that's not who I am. I barely want to hit someone let alone 'melt' their mind the way I was planning." He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair, sighing. "I'm fluctuating between okay and not okay too much for my liking. Just when I think things are fine, it all goes to hell. We finally started having sex again and so many things keep coming up and it just takes away from that." Peter took Neal's left hand in his, watching his lover's face. "I keep thinking I'll finally be happy and it's just… I don't think I'm supposed to be completely happy, Peter. God must have some reason that I can't see."

Peter shook his head, whispering, "You deserve it, Neal. After everything, the least this 'divine entity' could do for you is allow you to be happy."

Neal frowned. "What if I'm supposed to kill myself? Maybe God doesn't have plans for me like I thought he did when I was growing up." Peter's heart hurt and he squeezed Neal's hand tighter. "I gave life to Nicky. What if that was my only purpose in life?"

"Please, don't say things like that," Peter said brokenly. Neal glanced at his fiancé, startled to see the tremendous amount of pain in Peter's expression. "Neal, you know I'm a lapsed believer, but I'm going to have to say I'm on Mozzie's side when it comes to this." Neal's look of confusion made him elaborate. "I don't believe that God exists because of everything that's happened to you. You didn't do anything to warrant such pain, honey."

Neal's face heated up and his eyes lowered. He's not a religious fanatic, but he believes more than Peter does. "He works in mysterious ways," Neal whispered.

"Causing pain and pure agony in someone as innocent as you isn't what I'd call 'working in mysterious ways.'"

Neal rubbed his eyes as they began to water. "This is karma," he whispered. "I must have done something when I was young to warrant my first rape. I've done a lot of things that I probably shouldn't have done in my adult life and one of the bigger mistakes was whoring myself to every man I met."

"You honestly believe God would do this to you because you slept with some men?"

Neal glared at him. "Yeah, actually. First of all, I wasn't married—nice sin right there, by the way. Second of all, it was sex with a man."

Peter's brows furrowed. "We aren't married, I'm a man, _and_ we've had sex. I don't see where you're going with this."

The younger man sighed and shook his head. "I don't want to argue with you about this. It's not worth it." He shifted the blanket and then twisted to lay on his side, giving his back to Peter. He wasn't in the mood to fight with Peter. The revelation that Maryann seemingly never cared about Neal was enough familial pain for the moment. He accused her of not caring, but he never realized how right he was. Peter sighed and laid down behind him, curling up against him, his chin against Neal's shoulder.

He tentatively slid his arm over Neal's side and was surprised when Neal lifted his own arm so Peter could hold him. The older man rested his palm above Neal's heart, nuzzling his face against Neal's shoulder. "I should respect your beliefs," Peter whispered, his breath warm on Neal's skin.

"I'm going to respect yours—or lack thereof," Neal responded quietly. "I can't explain why things happened to me. I keep telling myself there's a reason for everything though." Peter kissed Neal's shoulder. "I want to be happy and I'm happy with you, but I…think… I don't think it's fair for you to have to live like this—with someone depressing and all of the drama that comes along with that."

Peter stared at Neal's shoulder, his lips parted. "I love you _more_ than anything, Neal Caffrey," he said fiercely. "I know you love me just as much and that means the world and more to me. _You_ mean the world and more to me." Neal sighed and lifted Peter's hand off of his chest, bringing it to his lips to gently kiss his lover's palm.

Neal closed his eyes for a moment, his lips still pressed against Peter's palm. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered. "I'm so tired of all of this pain. I'm tired of my heart hurting. I'm tired of crying so much. Peter, I want all of this to stop. I want to be able to laugh without worrying that someone might…without worrying that something bad is going to happen."

"I understand," Peter admitted. "Neal, I want that for you, too. I'll do anything and everything I can to contribute to that effort. I love when you smile and when you laugh. It's…beautiful." Neal blushed and twisted a bit so Peter could kiss him. Peter smiled and did just as Neal wanted him to. "We'll make it through this together," Peter promised. "I'm not leaving you. Nothing you do will make me leave."

Neal felt a little guilty when Peter said that. After all, he did give the engagement ring back to Peter during a fight. Then again, Peter accused him of being a prostitute. It wasn't like he'd actually walked out on him after that. He'd gone down to the floor below their bedroom for less than an hour before winding up in bed with Peter again and with his engagement ring back on. "Nothing you do could make me leave. I know I made it seem like I would the one time, but… I'd never actually…_leave._"

"I know, hon. Things aren't always easy between us," he said quietly, "but we'll make it work, right?" Neal nodded and Peter kissed him again.

Neal turned over, pressing his chest against Peter's. He looked up into his lover's eyes, searching them and finding sleepiness and affection in them. He initiated the next kiss before whispering, "Let's try to get some sleep." Peter nodded, smiling as Neal pressed his entire body against Peter's, curling up to him as close as he could. Peter held him in his arms, protecting him as he slept.


	52. Chapter 52

Neal's computer pinged when he received an email at work. He was half asleep, so the noise startled him a bit. Sighing, he opened up the tab with his email. He raised an eyebrow when he saw that it was from Peter. Opening it up, he found a URL link, which he clicked. He read the article's title and his lips parted. He looked up just as Peter came to a stop in front of his desk, grinning at his younger lover. No words passed between the two as Neal jumped up from his seat and threw his arms around Peter's neck. Peter's arms circled around Neal's waist and held him close.

At that moment, Jones chuckled behind them. "Congratulations, guys."

Neal stepped back, grinning like Nicky did at Christmas or on his birthday. "When did it pass?"

"Last night. I just saw it this morning though," Peter answered. Jones came closer and shook hands with both Peter and Neal. "Just so you know, you're on my half of the invite list, Clinton."

Jones smirked. "I certainly hope so. Thanks, Peter."

Once the couple was alone, Peter kissed Neal. "We're engaged," he whispered. "Now all we have to do is set a date and we'll be married."

"Elizabeth has had me working on an invitation list and she keeps insisting that I have more friends to add to it," he said, chuckling. "She's throwing me a bridal party." Peter gave him an amused look. "Don't say anything. I asked her to be the maid of honor and you know damn well she's going to throw a party if the opportunity arises."

Peter chuckled. "You have no interest in a bachelor party?"

"Are you inviting me to yours?" Neal asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Peter shrugged. "You're still a bachelor—and a man," he said. "I think you'll need a night out with the guys after a night out with all of the girls."

Neal nodded, sighing. "Oh, yeah. All the squealing is going to wreck me." Peter laughed at that, shaking his head. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you about the party El wants to have for me." Peter nodded, tilting his head slightly. "I've invited Ellen, your mother and your sister if they're able to go, Tara, Diana, Alex, and June and her granddaughters. Do you think it would be…wrong, inappropriate, or insensitive…to ask Rebecca to come?"

The older man gave him a thoughtful look. "She hasn't spoken to you since I spoke to her," Peter said quietly. "If you want her there, I can't and won't stop you." He kissed Neal's forehead. "It's your party, hon. I know you're not going to do something stupid with her if you happen to find yourselves alone—I trust you." He made sure Neal understood that he did trust him. They didn't need their relationship to take another hit because of trust issues since there really weren't any. "You invited Alex after she tried to kill you two years ago. You're an extremely forgiving man when the pain they caused you wasn't life changing. If you've forgiven Rebecca for hurting you, then I don't mind."

Neal stared into his fiancé's eyes. "She kissed me and offered me sex," he whispered. "She didn't actually…_do_ me. You know how afraid I was, but I really didn't go through anything massively traumatic with her. It was just a throwback to a traumatic experience." Peter nodded. "Alex and I have worked things out since Fowler's arrest. We don't talk very much, but we occasionally get together to have coffee or something. We usually just sit there without saying much. She's apologized for trying to kill me."

Before Peter could respond, Neal's email pinged twice. Peter gave the computer a curious glance before looking back at Neal. "Chatting on the job?" he teased.

Neal smirked. "You'll be happy to know I've finally worked up the courage to ask your dad to hand me off to you during our private, family ceremony." Neither of them cared about getting married in a church, though Neal liked the idea of it. He'd rather have an initial marriage ceremony with a very small, intimate group as witnesses with a justice of the peace though. They talked about it and decided Mozzie and Elizabeth would definitely be there—Nicky by default since he's their son. The two would sign off as their witnesses and then they'd have the family wedding later on either that day or the following day.

"That's wonderful," Peter said enthusiastically. "Did he accept?"

"Did you doubt that he would?" Peter shook his head and Neal chuckled. "He was thrilled. I emailed him before getting into bed with you last night and he emailed me back before we got here. He probably just replied to my last email."

Neal took Peter's hand and dragged him around the desk so he could check his email. The one was definitely from Jon, but the other surprised him. It was from James. Peter watched as Neal took a seat and opened Jon's email first. He laughed at how excited his father was to participate in the ceremony. Resting his hands on Neal's shoulders, he said, "Dad loves you so much, Neal. I don't think there's anything you could ask for from him that he'd say no to."

Neal shook his head, smiling faintly. "He's been more of a father to me than any man my mother brought home," he admitted. "I love your dad."

"Burke, Caffrey." Both men looked up towards Hughes' office to see a completely different man. Neal looked up at Peter, confused.

Peter stepped back to let Neal stand and whispered, "That's Gordon. He's in Counterintelligence."

They went into Hughes' office together, standing respectfully and professionally beside one another. "Agent Hughes was telling me you're the best pair of agents in the division." The two men looked at each other and shared a small smile. "I'm in need of your services. Agent Caffrey, shut the door, please." Neal did as he was asked before returning to Peter's side. Agent Gordon noticed the differences in their stances. Burke seemed like he was the one in charge and Caffrey was there to back him up and take commands. He knew they were in a relationship and it made him skeptical of their ability to focus on the job, but Hughes told him they would be fine. "There's a possibility that a nuclear weapon is being constructed underground in the states. Would you two be willing to station yourselves in Florida and California over the course of a month?"

Neal's heart leapt into his throat and Peter noticed the tension in his lover's shoulders almost immediately. "We have a son," Peter answered. He glanced at Neal, reading his expression perfectly. "Neither of us feels comfortable leaving him here and we both know it'd be too dangerous to bring him along."

Agent Gordon had no family of his own, so he didn't understand how the two men in front of him felt. He read everything on their files, but he still didn't know them. "He's eleven. He can't handle being away from you both for a month?"

Peter refrained from saying anything because he _knew_ Gordon struck a nerve in Neal. "I, personally, don't feel comfortable leaving my son for a month. He is eleven, but that doesn't mean he's okay with his dads leaving."

"You have no family to watch over him?"

"I'm sorry, Agent Gordon, but I'm not taking this assignment," Neal declared. "My job is important to me, but my son comes before my job." Peter lifted his right hand, resting it on the small of Neal's back.

"You might not have to worry about leaving or being with your son if this nuclear weapon is developed and put into use," the agent replied firmly.

Neal's eyes flashed angrily as he responded, "I'm well aware of that, but there are other agents in this division as well as the other divisions of the FBI that can take care of this. You may not know how it feels to be a parent, but I'm _not_ leaving my son so I can work across the country."

As Agent Gordon was beginning to say Neal was being very unprofessional by letting emotional matters take precedent over his country's well-being, Peter interjected, "We aren't accepting the assignment." Gordon looked at him—or rather, glared. "As parents, we've put our son above all else. As his lover, I've put Neal first. He and our son are my family. I won't leave either of them. If you can't understand that, then I don't know what to tell you."

Gordon was inclined to start another argument with Neal, but Neal put his hand up and shook his head. "I'm in no mood to argue with you over this. We've said our piece. _You_ figure out where to go from here."

The three of them walked Gordon down to the elevator, who turned to face them before getting into the elevator. "I've heard a lot about you, Agent Burke, and your work is phenomenal. I hope we have the chance to work on something someday."

Peter gave the man a forced smile. "You'll have to make you sure grab the right Agent Burke then." Gordon was confused before realizing what he meant. A brief glance at their left hands made him grit his teeth. He really didn't like Neal, but he respected Peter a great deal. "Best of luck to you, Agent Gordon."

The elevator closed and descended to the first floor. Neal was heading back in to work on some reports and he was planning on replying to Jon's email and possibly getting to his own father's email. "Caffrey." Neal froze and turned around to face Hughes. "I apologize for the position he put you in. I wasn't told that this operation was out of the state."

"It's no problem, Agent Hughes. We—"

"I think it's about time we've gotten ourselves onto a first name basis," Hughes interrupted. "You're going to be Peter's husband and he and I have been good friends for a very long time." He stepped forward to clap Neal's shoulder. "Just call me Reese, Neal."

Neal smiled. "I appreciate that, Reese." The eldest man of the three of them nodded and headed back inside, leaving Peter and Neal on the opposite side of the glass doors. "I never expected him to warm up to me that much," Neal admitted.

Peter took Neal's right hand in his left. "He knows you've been through a lot and he likes seeing us together. His wife…passed not too long ago." Neal frowned. He never liked hearing those kinds of things. It made him realize that Peter might die before him—assuming they both lived extremely healthy lives until the end without further complications. "El and I used to have dinner with them before she was too sick and admitted into a hospital."

"That's… Wow. I don't know how he's made it without her," Neal whispered, "because I wouldn't be able to go on without _you._"

"It's not a matter of making it without her," Peter said gently. "He knew she was suffering. He was happy to have been there in her final moments and to have all of their memories of the last fifty-some years together. He was happy that she wasn't suffering alone in a hospital anymore."

Neal nodded, understanding now. Looking at Peter, he realized that he'd probably feel the same way. If Peter were suffering, he wouldn't want to keep Peter around as long as he could. That seemed selfish of him and he loves Peter too much to let him die such a slow, painful death.

Peter seemed to realize that the conversation affected Neal, so he pulled the younger man into his arms, hugging him. Neal laughed lightly. "We better have fifty-some years if not more together before one of us goes," he murmured.

"We will," the older man said, kissing Neal's forehead. "We will, darling."

They went back to work and Neal responded to Jon's email, thanking him for being so enthusiastic and for welcoming him into their family as lovingly as he has. He didn't respond to his father's email because he didn't know what to say. James wanted to take him and Peter out to lunch in a few days. He felt awkward with his father. He could actually call him dad, too, but they knew nothing about each other. Well, Neal felt that maybe his father thinks he's a sociopath because of how he'd fallen apart in front of him the day he announced that he and Peter were going to get married.

His email pinged again and he opened the tab, thinking it was Jon again, but it wasn't. '_Hi, Neal. We haven't talked in a while, but I've been thinking about you a lot. I feel really bad about scaring you the way I did. You didn't deserve that and you were right. I should have known better. Do you think we could get together for coffee one of these days to talk?_'

He worried his lip as he considered his reply. He hit reply and started typing, '_Hi, Rebecca. I've been all right, so don't feel too bad, please. Hope you've been okay, too. I wouldn't mind coffee. Give me a time and place—we'll meet up._'

For a moment, he wondered if he should ask Peter about his reply before sending it, but then he realized how stupid that thought was. Peter trusts him and knows he doesn't want to be with women. If he asks for Peter's permission, Peter might think something's going on. He'll just simply tell Peter he made plans to meet with Rebecca over coffee and invite Peter along to oversee the meeting if he wanted.

He sighed, palming his face. When he looked up at his screen again, he forwarded the email from Rebecca to Peter and asked if he was okay with it. He knew he could make the decision himself, but he didn't want another argument and he certainly didn't want Peter accusing him of cheating again. In a matter of moments, Peter responded with, '_Come see me._'

That sounded very ominous and didn't answer his question. He swallowed hard, glancing up towards Peter's office. The older man didn't look upset—not even mildly so. He minimized his browser and headed up to Peter's office, shutting the door behind him. "Am I—?"

"Sit." Neal immediately shut up and nodded, taking a seat in front of Peter's desk. He bit his lip and began to fidget with his ring. Peter sat forward, leaning towards him. "I'm not your master and you're not my slave. You're going to be my husband, Neal." He reached across the desk, palm up, and waited for Neal to place his hand above Peter's. When he did, the older man continued speaking. "I know you worry about us a lot, hon, but you don't need to worry and you don't need to ask for my permission for everything, okay? You're not my subordinate and I don't expect you to be submissive when it comes to us. You're my _equal_ and I love you a lot. Do you understand?"

"I just wanted to see what you thought," Neal said quietly.

Peter intertwined their fingers, shaking his head. "Darling, we're adults. I trust you more than you think I do." He gave his lover a small smile. "We aren't teenagers. I'm not going to breakup with you if you don't ask for my permission to see people I feel threatened by."

"You feel threatened by Rebecca?"

Peter shook his head. "No. I know how you feel about me and I saw how afraid you were when she cornered you. If any part of you liked her in a romantic way, you wouldn't have screamed for me the way you did."

Neal nodded. "I see your point."

"You don't need to ask for my permission," he said gently. "Neal, I worry about you when I'm not with you, but I'm not going to keep you holed up in the apartment with me so I can keep an eye on you every second of every day." He squeezed Neal's fingers a little. "We're going to be husbands. I know how much you love me, how devoted and loyal you are to me. I just hope you know I feel the same way about you. You have the freedom to do as you please, my love. I'd hate myself if I took your freedom away." He seemed to rethink that last statement. "The only way I'd do that is if I thought you'd endanger or injure yourself in any way." He remembered how he'd acted on the way up to his parents' house after one of Adler's men found him and Nicky, asking for Neal as well as admitting Neal into solitary confinement, fearing that Neal would commit suicide, without Neal's expressed approval. "I want to protect you, but I won't smother you."

Neal gave Peter a small, timid smile. "I appreciate that, Peter, more than you know." He put his other hand on the desk and covered Peter's one hand with both of his own. "I'm still working on adjusting to actual freedom and love. You know my past relationships weren't…like this. None of them were."

"That's why I tell you that you deserve so much more than you've gotten," Peter said softly. "You're a good man, Neal. You're not a jerk—unless you're dead tired." Neal laughed lightly, ducking his head for a moment. He knew how right Peter was about that. "You deserve your happily ever after, hon, and I want to be the one you get to have that with."

"Always," Neal whispered, lifting his eyes to meet Peter's. "I won't let anyone else live happily ever after with me."

•◊•

Peter woke up about an hour and a half after falling asleep. He made love with Neal and subsequently fell into an orgasm-induced sleep. However, he didn't feel Neal's warmth on or beside him. In a slight panic, he pushed himself up and glanced around the barely lit room. Neal's slippers and robe was gone, which he found curious.

He slipped out of bed and pulled his own robe on. He wandered towards the narrow hallway to see if Neal was in the shower. However, movement on the terrace caught his attention in his peripheral vision. He turned and watched Neal shift occasionally in front of his easel. "I know you're awake," the younger man said quietly. "You can come out or I can come back in."

Neal turned towards Peter just as the older man stepped onto the terrace. He stood beside Neal, resting a hand on his lover's shoulder before tentatively looking at the painting. "What's this?" he asked, observing the black and red lines and spattered designs. He really had no idea how something like this was called art, but it was Neal's hobby and he encouraged as well as respected it. Neal didn't always paint abstractly like this because he normally painted people in a scene of some sort.

"I had a nightmare." Peter grabbed a chair and pulled it closer to Neal, seating himself beside the younger man. "It felt so real." He placed a hand on Peter's thigh, looking down at the ground. "I killed myself in the nightmare, Peter. I woke up and thought I was still dying slowly and painfully."

Now that Peter had a slight explanation, he realized that the painting was of a man—painted only in a shade of black—hanging over what he guessed was hell because of the flames in the chasm below the figure. He was hanging by the neck, obviously dead at that point. The sight made Peter's heart freeze. "Well, you're alive," Peter said hoarsely. He cleared his throat and blinked a few times. "This is what you saw in your nightmare?"

Neal nodded slowly, frowning. He looked at his painting again and Peter could see him warring with his urge to grab the paper and rip it off of the easel to ball it into an unrecognizable and colorful paper ball. "I'm sorry, Peter. I didn't mean to stay out of bed so long." He started putting his paints and paintbrushes away as he said, "Let's get some sleep."

Peter stopped Neal, gently gripping his left wrist. "You can stay out here as long as you need to, hon. If I'm bothering you or distracting you or something, I'll head back inside."

"I kind of need to go back to bed. I don't feel so good," Neal said quietly, looking up at Peter. He looked very pale, even in the moonlight.

"You sure you don't need to head into the bathroom?"

Neal shrugged, murmuring, "I don't know. I just don't feel well."

Peter pressed the back of his hand against Neal's forehead. He was clammy and kind of cold. "You might be getting sick, lover."

The younger man groaned. "I'll pass on that," he said sarcastically. "Take me to bed, please?"

"You want me to carry you?" Peter asked, amused.

"Get used to it. Just think of it as practicing for the honeymoon."

Peter smiled at him. He took Neal's easel into the apartment and set it aside, shutting the big book so no one would see Neal's paintings. They knew that they weren't meant to look inside if it were closed and Peter found all of Neal's recent paintings very personal to Neal, so he respectfully closed it for him. Neal was about to walk past him after thanking him, but Peter palmed his chest, drawing his attention. "What kind of husband would I be if I didn't practice carrying my lover to our bed?" Neal smiled as Peter shifted him, pulling him into his arms bridal style. Neal wrapped his arms around Peter's neck, laughing lightly.

•◊•

Neal sneezed and groaned, subsequently finding himself in a coughing fit. "_You sound terrible._"

"I took some medicine when I got up. I feel like shit." He rubbed his forehead as he held his phone to his ear. He was working from their bed with his laptop in front of him and he really hated himself for not taking medicine a few days ago when he was just starting to feel sick. "I'm fairly certain the receptionist is the one stealing from the account, Peter. Her statements seem very strange for someone who claims she isn't guilty."

Peter sighed. "_Hon, this is ridiculous. Go rest, please._"

"Let me help," he pleaded. "All I've done since seven is lay in bed with my laptop and phone. Nicky isn't up and I really don't feel like waking him up even though I know I should."

Once again, Neal had a coughing fit. "_Sweetheart, you sound really bad. I'm actually considering coming home to take care of you. My mom made really good chicken noodle soup for me when I was sick as a kid. I could make some for you._"

Neal laughed lightly. "I'd like that, but we need to do our jobs first. I'll survive. It's not like I'm on my deathbed."

"_Oh, that isn't what you said this morning._"

The younger man rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to let you fuck me tonight," he said quietly, "if you keep asking me to get off the phone."

Peter laughed and Neal's brows furrowed. "_Oh, my love…_" There was a pause and Neal knew he was checking to make sure no one was listening in. "_You know I don't need to fuck to be happy. I'll just make you some soup and help you feel better._" Neal groaned into the phone, eliciting another laugh from his lover. "_Oh, don't be so dramatic, honey. I'll come home for lunch, all right?_"

Neal closed his laptop and laid down on his side, pulling the blanket up to his shoulder. "I don't want to get off the phone," he whispered, trying not to yawn. "I want to keep talking to you. I like your voice."

"_Babe, I'll be home in two hours. I promise. In that time, I want you getting some rest. No phone, no email, no laptop, no television. Sleep, hon._"

"You're a buzz kill," Neal murmured, nuzzling his face against Peter's pillow.

Peter chuckled and Neal imagined the way he was smiling. "_And you're a brat,_" he teased.

Neal moaned. "Love you."

"_Love you, too, Neal. See you in a little bit._"

Before he even had the chance to hang up, he'd already fallen asleep. Nicky woke up an hour later and wandered out into the living area. He didn't know Neal was home, so he started looking for Mozzie since Moz had been babysitting him when Michael wasn't around. He was startled when he walked to the front door and heard his father snoring. Quickly making his way towards the bedroom, he leapt onto the bed. He grabbed Neal's phone and giggled at the picture of Peter on Neal's homescreen. He didn't understand that there was a very sexual meaning behind the picture, but he assumed it was a picture that meant a lot to his dad. He shut the screen off and set the phone on the nightstand before getting under the blanket to curl up against his father. Neal smiled as he stirred a bit, draping an arm over Nicky. "Hey, you," he whispered sleepily, his eyes still shut.

"Hi, daddy."

"Just wake up, baby?" Nicky nodded, pressing his face against the hollow of Neal's throat. "Daddy's sick and poppa wanted me to stay home," he said miserably, sounding congested.

Nicky rubbed Neal's chest, staring at Neal's skin. "You're gonna feel better though, right?"

Neal nodded. "Of course."

The older man opened his eyes to look at his son, smiling. "Daddy, can I ask you something?"

More alert now, Neal said, "You can always ask me anything."

Nicky scooted back a bit to look at his dad's face. "How did you know you were in love with boys? When did you figure it out?"

Neal furrowed his brows. "I think I started to figure it out around my seventh or eighth birthday, but I didn't entirely know until I was with my first boyfriend in my twenties."

"Am I gonna love another boy like you love poppa?"

Smiling softly, Neal whispered, "That's not for me to decide. You need to do what you feel is right for _you._. Whether you love a boy or a girl, you know poppa and I will support you." He kissed Nicky's forehead. "Just follow your heart, Nick. It might take a while to figure out, but you will figure it out. Love can make you happy, but you need to find the right person."

"And poppa's the right person for you? He makes you happy?" Neal nodded and Nicky gently pushed his father onto his back so he could climb on top of him. "I like when you're happy, daddy. It makes me sad when you're sad or crying. I wish I could make you happy, daddy."

A brief flash of pain crossed Neal's expression before he sat up, holding Nicky against him. "Don't you _ever_ think you don't make me happy, too," he said firmly. "You're my baby, Nicky. I love you _so_ much. You know I'd do anything and everything for you."

"Was I planned?"

Neal looked really hurt now. "Nick, where is all of this coming from? Did someone say something to you?"

"Grandma called Aunt June and asked for me when you were at work a couple days ago. She said you didn't want me."

He felt a surge of rage shoot through him, but he needed to ask another question before jumping into action. "My mom or poppa's mom?"

"Your mommy." Neal leaned over to grab his phone, quickly unlocking it and dialing a number. "Daddy, don't get mad. I'm sorry," he pleaded.

"Do you think you have the right to tell _my_ son lies?" Neal growled into the phone. "You lied to me, betrayed me, and sold me out to save yourself. You never would've given your damn life to save mine, but I'm not _you._" Nicky looked at his father, terrified. He thought the comment was innocent, but it made his daddy really angry. Neal was quiet for a moment before coughing violently, subsequently yelling, "I would never let someone rape my child with my knowledge! You have no right telling him I didn't want him. You can't say I don't want my son just because you never wanted me. Don't you fucking _dare_ tell him any more lies to turn him against me. That's such a _dick_ move on your part. You can't even let your grandson live normally." Nicky grabbed Neal's free hand, his lower lip jutting out as he started to cry silently. "Isn't it enough to know you've ruined my life? I don't want my son growing up that way. I don't want him thinking his parents don't love him. I've never once turned him away or discarded anything that hurt him."

Nicky didn't like how red his dad's face was or how he was speaking as he continued to raise his voice with his mother. Neal was coughing severely at this point, sounding like he was out of breath as he argued with his mother. The young boy didn't like seeing his father this way and he felt guilty for making Neal upset. "Daddy, I'm sorry," Nicky whispered, rubbing his eyes.

Neal's eyes widened when he looked at his son and realized he was crying. He made one last comment, "If you ever lie to my baby again, there will be hell to pay," before hanging up. He practically threw his phone towards the nightstand as he pulled Nicky into his arms. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to yell—I'm not mad at _you._"

Nicky's tears were hot against Neal's bare chest. "Why don't you love your mommy?" he asked quietly.

Neal rested his cheek against his son's head, closing his eyes. "My mommy hurt me a lot when I was a kid. She…didn't love me the way I love you."

The young boy nuzzled his father's chest. "I know you love me a lot," he whispered. "You gave up stuff for me, dad. A lot of stuff, too."

"Because you're my world," Neal whispered hoarsely, blinking back tears. "You're the most important person in my life, Nick. If I ever hurt you… I don't think I could live with myself. I can't be that kind of parent with you. I want to give you everything you want and make you happy, baby."

Neal started having coughing fits a little more often as he laid down on the bed with Nicky laying beside him. The little boy had never seen his daddy this sick before and it was worrying him. Even as Neal slept, he sounded terrible, his body jerking painfully. Nicky kept himself pressed up against his dad, terrified that something was really wrong.

As soon as Peter came home, he went to the bedroom and found the two of them there. "Hey," Peter whispered, kissing Nicky's forehead. He glanced at Neal briefly, smiling at the sleeping man. "How's daddy been?"

"His cough sounds really bad. Is daddy okay?"

Peter knelt on the bed and pressed the back of his hand against Neal's forehead. "I think it's just the flu, kiddo. Daddy's fine. He just needs to get some rest." Nicky moved closer to Neal, nudging his father back a bit to make room for Peter. Peter laid down beside Nicky, reaching over him to rest his hand on Neal's chest. He seemed to realize that Nicky was nervous, so he gave the small boy a curious glance. "Everything okay?"

"I made daddy really mad."

"How?"

"Grandma said some things and I told daddy. He called her and he started…yelling. And swearing." Neal went into another coughing fit, twisting painfully as he did so. Nicky's eyes widened and he looked like his world was ending as he watched his dad. Peter slid his hand back to Nicky's hair, stroking it slowly. Peter knew it had to have been pretty bad if Neal swore in front of Nicky—he _never_ wanted Nicky to hear him talk that way.

Nicky was frowning at Neal. "I'm sure he wasn't mad at you, kiddo. He's… He has problems with his mom. She's done a lot of mean things to him and he's hurting a lot." Nicky nodded at Peter while Peter continued stroking his hair. "Don't worry, okay? He loves you so much, Nicky. Daddy would never hurt you like his mom hurt him."

"I know," Nicky said without hesitation. "Daddy does things for me that some of my friends' daddies don't do." He nuzzled his father's chest, whispering, "Daddy doesn't yell at me when I don't clean up my room. He doesn't ground me or tell me I need to get my shit together."

Peter's eyes widened. "Don't repeat that, Nick." The little boy looked confused. "You said a really bad word. I won't tell daddy if you promise me you won't say it anymore." Nicky nodded, scared. He hadn't realized he swore in front of Peter. His friends said that word all the time and he sometimes heard his dad say it in the middle of the night, so he thought it was okay. Peter kissed Nicky's hair before sliding off of the bed. "I'm going to make daddy some soup. Do you want any?"

"Yeah." He grinned at Peter, grateful that he wouldn't have to find food on his own since Neal seemed like he was going to sleep the day away. It was a pretty bad cold if Neal couldn't force himself to get out of bed to make Nicky food.

Peter knelt onto the bed again and pulled the blanket up to Neal's neck, covering his chilled, bare skin. He kissed Neal's temple before sliding off of the bed again, making his way towards the kitchen. Nicky thought about going over there, too, but he wanted to stay with his father.

From the kitchen, Peter could see that Nicky was concerned about Neal, staring at him like something bad was going to happen to him. He could also see the startling resemblance between the two. If there was any doubt about Nicky being Neal's son, their appearances cleared that up. Neal had shown him pictures of himself when he was younger and Nicky looked exactly like his father did at that age.

He watched the two people he loved more than anything and smiled as Nicky slid closer to Neal, burying his face into Neal's chest. Peter loved seeing them like this. He knew Neal was a fantastic parent and it was even more prominent as Nicky watched over his sick dad. The love there was something he treasured from afar. Neal went through so much and could be an entirely different man at that moment, but he wasn't bitter or hateful. He didn't abuse his son because he'd been abused. Neal was the man he wanted to be and Peter knew Neal was proud of himself on occasion. The love between his lover and their son was just…too beautiful to put into words.

It warmed his heart—watching them. _That_ was the pure definition of unconditional love right there.


	53. Chapter 53

**A/N: There are a couple small sex scenes in this chapter. Nothing major though.**

"Why do I get the feeling that you've roped me into something highly illegal?" Neal whispered, glancing over his shoulder to look at his best friend.

Mozzie rolled his eyes. "You're just the lookout. It's not like I'm asking you to take part in the con."

Neal turned around completely, resting his hands on his hips. "Um, you realize that Peter won't see it that way if we happen to get caught, right?" Mozzie waved his hand dismissively. "What the hell are you doing anyway?"

"Getting my payment."

"Do I want to know what you're getting paid for?"

Mozzie looked up from his laptop and made a gesture with his hands, telling Neal to turn around, which he did with a sigh. "I sold one of my pieces shortly before pulling you in. I have the legal funds in my pocket, but I'm waiting for the transfer to my account to take effect."

"All right. Now, can you answer why I signed something as Nicolas Halden earlier?"

Mozzie glanced up at Neal briefly. "You…may have signed on as my benefactor." Neal turned around in disbelief just as Mozzie lowered his gaze to his computer. "You won't get in trouble. Your profile is totally legitimate, mon frère."

Neal sighed exasperatedly, running his fingers through his hair. "I'll remember that when I'm sitting in a prison cell with you with occasional visits from my son and would-have-been husband." Mozzie smiled a little. "You know, the whole idea that best friends end up in jail together isn't exactly my ideal friendship, Moz. I'd like to stay out of prison, thank you very much."

Mozzie's computer beeped and he grinned. "I'm done. Let's get out of here."

The two men left the bank, seemingly innocent. The person who paid Mozzie worked with the bank and was filtering the payment through the bank's funds. "I swear I'll kill you if we get arrested. Peter and I just decided that we'll be getting married in a couple weeks. I kind of want to be there for it…"

They got into Peter's _Taurus_ and Neal immediately began backing out, turning sharply before shifting the gear into drive to take them back to the apartment. "The only thing you need to worry about is your hair and attire. Both the bridal and the bachelor parties have been finalized. Your bridal party will be the night before Peter's bachelor party—and I was told a certain hubby might show up to said bachelor party."

"He said I'd need a night out with all of you after spending one with the girls," Neal teased, grinning. "And Elizabeth doesn't have to know."

"All the squealing?"

"Yup."

Mozzie smiled at his best friend. "Well, I hope you're prepared to get drunk off your ass because Peter and Bruce have set up quite the bachelor party."

Neal's brows furrowed and his smile faltered. "Who's Bruce?"

"Bruce Hawes. Peter's best man." Mozzie gave Neal a wary look. "I take it Peter didn't mention him?"

"He told me he was undecided about a best man," Neal said quietly. He didn't like this. Now he was curious about Peter's relationship with Bruce. He pulled over and asked for Mozzie's laptop. He logged into the FBI database and searched Bruce's name. "Section Chief," Neal murmured miserably, "in DC."

Mozzie noted that he'd made a mistake in bringing this up. "Peter loves Special Agent Caffrey—soon to be the other Special Agent Burke. I don't think he would be hitting on a Section Chief while he's with a special agent as good at his job as you are."

"Nobody thought I'd dated anyone in OPR either," Neal grumbled. "What if there's some history between them? He never mentioned Bruce at all and that…worries me."

The older man reached over for his laptop, logging Neal out and clearing the browser history. "Who does Peter break the bedsprings with?" Neal sighed, resting his elbow against the car window. "What lucky guy gets to spend his days and nights and almost every minute of every day with his fiancé?"

"Moz…" Neal whined halfheartedly.

"Whose finger did Peter slide an engagement ring onto?"

"…Mine."

Mozzie smiled at him. "Peter wouldn't hide this from you because he's having an affair behind your back. He obsessively texts you when you're apart. It's kind of scary how possessive he is—yet endearing at the same time."

Neal frowned, staring at the steering wheel. "If he loves me so much, why hasn't he told me about Bruce?"

"Mon frère, I don't have that answer. You'll have to ask the Suit."

•◊•

Neal sat on the left end of the couch with a book in hand while Peter watched a rerun of a Yankees game. He was still upset with Peter for not talking about Bruce, but he didn't want to cause an issue just yet. He'd wait to see if Peter brought it up first. Neal didn't realize a commercial was on until his book was closed abruptly and Peter was kissing his neck. If he weren't upset, he'd probably be in the mood to take things to the bedroom. He pressed his palm against Peter's chest, gently yet firmly pushing Peter back to keep a little distance between them. "You okay?" Peter asked, breathing on his throat. He pulled back to look at Neal's face, noticing that Neal wasn't turned on. He didn't want to force Neal by any means. He just missed Neal and wanted the younger man to know he was still thinking about him even though he was watching the game.

Neal nodded, reaching over for his book. "I'm fine." He readjusted his reading glasses and tried to open the book, but Peter stopped him, giving him a look of concern.

"Did I do something wrong?" Peter was worried that his decision to jump Neal and kiss Neal's throat might not have been the best idea. If Neal thought about something negative or frightening during the day, Peter felt like he'd just made it worse.

"I was with Moz earlier," Neal said quietly. "Who's Bruce, Peter? Why didn't you tell me anything about him? Why did I have to find out from Mozzie that he's your best man and he planned your bachelor party?"

Peter gave Neal a very small smile without moving away from him. "Bruce and I were friends while we were training at Quantico. He tried to keep me in DC once he got his post and I came back to New York for my family. I invited him to our wedding and he's thrilled." Peter pecked Neal's lips gently. "We haven't spoken very much since the last time he offered me a job in DC and I turned it down. I thought I'd wait to introduce you to one of my best friends when he's actually here in person."

Neal's face heated up, embarrassed. "So you're not…you know, into him?"

Peter chuckled, kissing Neal's jaw. "There's only one man on my mind," he whispered, "and I've got him right here." Neal realized the game was back on and he was slightly surprised that Peter wasn't twisting away from him to focus on it. Instead, Peter straddled Neal's legs, stroking Neal's hair while kissing up from his jaw to his hairline. "That one man is all I need."

Neal closed his eyes, loving the way Peter kept kissing him. He rubbed Neal's chest, sliding his hand down to Neal's abdomen. "Peter, game's on," Neal said, moaning.

The older man mouthed Neal's throat, murmuring, "Game's _you._"

That floored Neal. He expected Peter to jump right off of him to watch the game. The fact that Peter kept kissing him made him feel a little better about himself. He felt like he was worthless and probably no good when he heard about Bruce, but he felt better knowing that Peter didn't want Bruce the way he wants Neal. If Peter could turn his attention away from the game to focus on him, then that meant Peter truly loved him because Peter loves his sports. If you weren't dead, dying, bleeding uncontrollably, or the world wasn't ending, Peter didn't want to be interrupted, which is why Neal always sat beside him quietly.

Peter never expressly told him to be quiet and sit still. Neal just did it to help Peter relax, especially during a particularly aggravating game with ridiculous calls that Peter knows aren't right. Despite the frustration, Neal was there to rub Peter's thigh, reminding him that it was just a game. Peter never really saw it as 'just a game,' but he always calmed down when he stroked Neal's hair as though he was petting his lover.

Neal moaned as Peter's hand slid down his body. "Peter…" he whispered, staring at Peter's face. "Don't touch if you're not gonna go through with that." Peter smirked, pecking Neal's lips. The younger man was suddenly curious. "You ever get sucked off while you were watching a game?"

Raising an eyebrow, Peter shook his head. "No. I was usually too focused on the game."

The younger man had a brief flash of fear cross his expression and he hoped Peter hadn't seen it. He slid out from under Peter and sank to his knees in front of the older man. "All right. Well, focus on the game. I'll take care of you," he said quietly. He'd done this for Adler before and it sent a surge of fear through him, chilling him to the bone. He loves Peter though and he knows Peter loves him. It wasn't like Peter demanded that he do this. He'd offered even though he wasn't in the mood for anything because Peter was turned on and obviously wanted _something._

Neal unzipped Peter's pants and then undid the button. His fingers trembled as he worked to shift the fabric of Peter's briefs and release his achingly hard cock. "Hon, are you okay?"

"Yes." Without hesitating further, he leaned over Peter's lap and took his cock into his mouth. He closed his eyes as he bobbed his head up and down Peter's length slowly, sliding his tongue over the salty skin.

He vaguely heard the game playing behind him, but he could feel Peter's fingers combing through his hair. Peter made small, moaning sounds in response to Neal's extremely slow sucking. He'd never make the younger man hurry through this. One: he didn't want to frighten Neal by making him feel pressured. Two: he really likes how hot Neal's mouth is.

Neal's teeth carefully grazed Peter's skin, eliciting a small gasp from the older man. He alternatively watched the game and Neal, but he found himself watching Neal more often. He loved how Neal moved and he knew it was because Neal had a bit of experience in this area, which Peter didn't mind once that experience was used on him.

For as guilty as Peter felt about it, the sight of Neal on his knees was a huge turn on. He messed with Neal's hair, styling it to look disheveled—another hot quality of Neal's. The moment Neal's eyes opened and flickered up to meet his own, Peter came in a rush. He hadn't meant to startle Neal by coming so abruptly, but Neal just looked so damn gorgeous. Neal's eyes shut tightly as he swallowed it all down and tried to stop it from dribbling out of his mouth and onto their clothing.

That was when Peter realized something was really wrong. Neal backed off as soon as he'd cleaned up and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The problem was that he didn't move his hand away from his mouth and he wouldn't meet Peter's eyes. "Neal?" He zipped himself up quickly and leaned forward, reaching out to stroke the side of Neal's face. "Honey, what is it?" He noticed the tremors in Neal's hand as well as how his eyes began to water.

Neal focused on an empty space on the wall, trying his best to clear his mind and calm himself down before things got too out of hand for his liking. As soon as he had himself under control, he was able to look at Peter, lowering his hand. "I'm all right. Sorry, love."

Peter looked skeptical. "Neal." The younger man got onto his knees again and straightened up, resting his hands on Peter's thighs as he kissed his fiancé. When Neal pulled away, Peter was even more concerned. "Neal, honey, what's wrong?"

The smile on Neal's face was clearly forced and it hurt Peter's heart. "I'll get us some popcorn and we'll finish watching the game—maybe watch another one together. Sound good?" Before Peter could even answer, Neal pushed himself up and darted towards the kitchen area, leaving Peter on the couch in a very confused state.

•◊•

"Hey," Peter said, gripping Neal's hand. He felt strange without their rings on. "Are you sure you're ready for this? You've been…" He swallowed, blinking a few times before finishing with, "…acting differently around me."

Neal gave Peter a small smile. "I'm fine—and I love you, Peter." Peter adjusted Neal's tie before they got out of the car. He wasn't happy with the answer, but they had a job to do. He made sure their clips were positioned just right so they could keep the van in the loop.

Several days ago, they'd gone undercover to get in on a cargo shipment detail. Drugs and stolen antiquities were going overseas to some coast off of Italy. Their assignment was to find the man in charge of the whole thing. They'd gotten in on it separately, but through—essentially—the same person. Mozzie used two different aliases to put in a good word for Neal and Peter's 'street smart attitudes.' He noted different circumstances in which he'd done professional and successful heists with both of them individually.

Fortunately, there hadn't been any issues and they were both scheduled to meet with their 'boss' at the same time, though they weren't aware of that—or so everyone else believed. They walked into the warehouse a few minutes apart and entered from different doors. The man greeted the two of them as they neared the center of the large room. "Ah, Mister Halden, Mister Slausen. Perfect timing, if I may say so myself." Peter pretended to give Neal the onceover, nodding. He was concerned about Neal and worried that something was coming between them. "Your references were very confident in your abilities to carry out this task."

"I'm confident in our partnership," Peter said gruffly. "We'll have future opportunities to work on together. This is simple."

The man they were meeting with was Tony Martins. He raised an eyebrow at Peter's overconfidence. "You overestimate yourself." Neal swallowed hard, watching Peter. Peter didn't back down. He'd done his research on this man. Neal had seen it as well, but they were playing two different angles. Peter was overly confident in himself and Neal was reserved. "I like it. Good man." He slugged Peter's shoulder good-naturedly before leading them towards the docks, gesturing as he spoke. "This is where everything will go. The facility with our cargo is impenetrable, but your references were pleased and didn't hesitate to flaunt your ability to do the impossible."

Neal nodded, giving Peter a brief look before focusing on Martins. "Where exactly is this facility? Your clues were ambiguous."

Martins laughed, which made Neal curious. "The FBI building." Neal and Peter fought _very_ hard to keep their expressions cool and neutral. "I have an inside man who will do the tradeoff. You'll have his money and he'll have your packages. I'll provide you with sufficient means of transportation as well."

The other two men shared a look and nodded at each other. "We can pull this off without a problem. I've heard Nick's quite the charmer." He grinned at Neal—forcibly. "He can provide the distraction."

Neal chuckled. "My reputation precedes me," he said, sounding amused. "Distraction is one of my specialties, so we'll have no problem at all—as Peter said." He flashed a dazzling smile at Peter and it was genuine. He's been having emotional problems and distanced himself from Peter, but he was trying to get closer again and he needed to make sure Peter knew he still loved him. "I'll even get the floor plans directly from the building. I'll have it by tomorrow morning, then we'll discuss the finer details."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "I said _charmer,_ not _cocky bastard._" Neal smirked. "I can tell we'll work well together, _partner._"

Now it was Neal who gave Peter the onceover. "You remind me of my most recent partner," he said, raising an eyebrow in mock curiosity. Martins looked like he was beginning to lose interest in their conversation, but he was willing to listen to their interaction to see if they could work together to get the job done. Peter was amused, knowing that was a small joke on Neal's part. "Bet you're bossy in bed, too," he added with a wink.

Peter stepped closer, looking down at Neal with a soft yet perfectly professional expression. "If the job goes as planned or _better,_ you can have an exclusive ride on the 'Peter Express.'" He gently gripped Neal's chin, drawing the younger man's face closer to his, smiling slyly at him. He teased Neal's smirk right off of his face, smothering his lips in an extremely passionate kiss. He pulled away abruptly, grinning at Neal. The younger man's face heated up as he tried to even out his breathing. "Now you've got a taste of what success will be like."

Neal's heart pounded excitedly. He was glad Peter got the message then. "Let's succeed then, partner."

"Put your work to magic, Mister Halden," Martins ordered. "When we meet again in two days, I expect you to have the floor plans _and_ a recording of security measures."

The younger man nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Please, gentlemen, exit through the alley doors." Both men nodded and turned simultaneously. "Two days, Halden. If you disappoint, you'll suffer the consequences of failure." Peter didn't like that Neal was being threatened. He felt like Neal should've been the overly confident one of the two of them. Peter could make himself out to be their muscle while Neal took the lead, but Peter had been ordered to take it. Neal wasn't going to fail because Peter would get him all of the clearance he needed. "Two days, boys. See you both then." He eyed Neal as they exited.

Martins liked Peter's cockiness and admired that about him. He had an odd feeling when he saw Neal though. He didn't see the same kind of fire in his eyes that Peter had. It wasn't something he could fully explain. He just felt like he needed to keep his eyes open and on Neal for the duration of this work detail.

•◊•

As soon as both men were in the car and they're clips were turned off to give themselves privacy, Neal burst into laughter. The sound made Peter's heart flutter. "You'll give me a ride on the 'Peter Express?'" he teased. "'Peter Express?' Really?" He kept laughing until he cried and it warmed Peter's heart. He hadn't seen Neal this happy in a little while. "You need to use that in bed one of these days. Oh, my fucking God." He wiped his eyes, still laughing lightly.

Peter gave him a wry smile as he started up the car. Once they were on the road, Peter reached over and held the back of Neal's neck, playing with his hair. "You're gonna get the ride of your life, Halden," he said huskily. "My boyfriend has a good time and you both seem very alike, so I guarantee you'll have the best damn orgasm in your life."

"Well, _my_ boyfriend is a damn good ride. For your sake, you better be packing something impressive." Peter grinned while watching the road. "He tells me I give head pretty well though, so you've got that going for ya."

"Mm. I'll put that mouth to work. I bet you suck him off while looking up at him, don't you?" Neal smirked, knowing where Peter was going with that. It was the one thing Peter loved to do when Neal was giving him a blowjob. "I'm going to tell you ahead of time that I _love_ brunettes, so I'm probably going to play with your hair."

Neal chuckled. Their little roleplaying was fun. He hadn't felt this turned on since their conversation about Bruce's participation in their wedding. "Good. I love having my hair messed with while I blow him." He cocked an eyebrow, smirking. "You're pretty sexy."

He tugged at Neal's hair playfully. "Sexy is an understatement for _you._" Neal blushed and Peter noticed, smiling softly at him when they got to a red light. "I love you, Neal."

"Love you, too, Peter."

As soon as they got back to the bureau, they headed up to the twenty-first floor. "You did really well in there, babe," Peter commented as he stood beside Neal in the elevator. "You and your charming innuendos."

"Hey," Neal replied, shrugging. "Nick really likes his partner. He'll let Peter fuck him if they succeed. He loves Peter's build. Can't say I blame him. That Peter is definitely going to be a good fuck."

Peter laughed, swatting Neal's ass to make Neal yelp a bit, eliciting a laugh a moment later. The older man kissed Neal as the elevator door opened, whispering, "We better make sure they succeed so they can have a nice fuck session then," against his lips.

Neal smiled as he trailed Peter up to Hughes' office. They went in and Peter was given a slip of paper with Hughes' signature. "Berrigan relayed the items Martins requested. Ryan upstairs will provide you with what you need." Peter thanked Hughes and the older man grumbled something Neal didn't comprehend. "Dismissed. You can head home and get some rest once you've got everything. You two have been working pretty heavily lately."

"Thank you, sir," Neal said politely before they took their leave. Neal grabbed his fedora off of his desk as they passed it and flipped it onto his head with his little trick he'd shown Peter before. The older man smiled fondly at him, shifting his hand closer to Neal's. Neal didn't hesitate to intertwine their fingers as they walked to the elevator. They took it up to the twenty-fourth floor and met Ryan in his office.

The young man looked up from his computer and startled almost immediately. "Agent Burke, Agent Caffrey," he said respectfully. He'd jumped to their attention, which made the older men slightly uncomfortable, but he was eager to grab the folder containing everything they needed. Peter accepted it and gave the young man a small smile of thanks. "Blueprints and floor plans are in there. Security schedules and camera angles are included, too."

Peter opened the folder, skimming the contents of it and gave a satisfied nod, which made Ryan's face light up. "Good work, Ryan." The young man murmured his thanks before returning to his work. "All right, you," Peter whispered, turning towards Neal, "let's head home."

•◊•

Neal and Peter spent almost an hour looking over the files they'd been given and decided to work on from home. While they'd looked over their paperwork for Martins, they were surprised by how simple such a complex system looked on paper. As Neal finished with a folder containing a case on identity theft, he set it down and sighed, glancing at Peter. "Can we take a break from this?" Peter nodded, closing his own folder. He was getting rather tired of reading mortgage fraud cases himself, so he was absolutely willing to take a break. "Nick's staying with Trenton for tonight," he murmured. "Think we could, ah, sex things up a bit?"

Peter raised an eyebrow. After what Peter deemed as the 'blowjob fiasco' Neal experienced while Peter had been watching his baseball game, Peter didn't think Neal would really be up for anything sexual. He figured Neal's reaction afterward had something to do with a flashback, but he hadn't pressed Neal for an answer. He'd gotten his answer when he woke up in the middle of the night to find Neal writing furiously in his journal at the kitchen table. There was no way he was willing to distract Neal when he was writing, so he'd laid back until Neal closed his journal, turned off the light, and joined him in bed again. Neal curled up against him that night, but he'd been acting strangely distant since.

"Are you sure? Right now?"

"Right now."

He searched Neal's eyes, watching him to make sure he wasn't making a decision that would hurt him in the end. When he didn't find any fear or hesitance in Neal's eyes, he nodded. If Neal needed him to stop, he would without a doubt. Neal controlled what they did or didn't do in bed based on his level of comfort and Peter was more than happy to allow him that. "All right," he said, moving their work from their laps to set it on the coffee table. Neal instantly shifted to lay on his back and Peter kissed him as he lowered himself onto the cushions. The older man shifted himself so he was hovering over Neal, grinding his pelvis into Neal's. He felt Neal getting increasingly hard and he himself was already at that point. His erection was almost always existent in Neal's presence. He was able to control it very well, however. "Stay put," he murmured against Neal's lips a few moments later.

He slid off of the couch and headed towards the bedroom, grabbing a condom, the lube, and their engagement rings. As soon as he was close enough, he crawled on top of Neal, chuckling to himself as he set the condom and bottle of lube on Neal's chest. He kept his eyes locked with Neal's as he slid his engagement ring back onto his finger and he smiled as he lifted Neal's left hand, sliding Neal's engagement ring back onto Neal's finger as well. Neal smiled as Peter kissed his knuckles. "Thank you," he whispered.

Peter smiled softly at him. "Figured we should have them back on now that we're not undercover."

"Great idea, babe," he said, spreading his legs. He grinned when Peter settled between his legs, loving the idea of being able to wrap them around Peter soon enough.


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N: The first half of the chapter involves sex. I would've cut it out, but I felt like it was kind of important—important enough to keep in this version.**

"_Peter,_" Neal whined, his back arching off of the couch as Peter continued teasing him, sucking at his nipples and licking his skin. Peter grinned. He didn't mind tormenting Neal like this because he knew Neal liked it. "Please, make love to me," he pleaded.

The older man loved when Neal begged—much to his disdain after everything Neal had gone through. He smiled softly at the young man, whispering, "Wow," when he saw how breathless Neal was. Neal's face was flushed and his chest glistened with his sweat. He admitted to loving the way Neal looked after a blowjob as well as how he looked after coming during their lovemaking. It was enough to make his throat dry—and apparently so was this.

Peter shifted himself back onto the couch, kissing Neal's chest. Neal mewled, waiting for Peter to take this one step further rather impatiently. Peter grabbed the lube bottle, opening it to coat his middle and index fingers generously. He rubbed his fingers together, stroking along Neal's thigh with his other hand. As soon as he felt the lube was warm enough to be comfortable for Neal, he slipped his middle finger into the younger man. He watched Neal's reactions. At the moment, Neal's eyes were closed and his lips were parted in a silent gasp, but his hips were moving to meet each pumping motion of Peter's hand.

When he slid his index finger in alongside his middle finger, Neal _did_ gasp and Peter stopped immediately, seeing the pain in Neal's expression. Maybe he hadn't realized how long it's been since he was actually inside of Neal's body and not just Neal's mouth or hand. Neal gripped Peter's forearm, whispering, "I'm okay," as he opened his eyes. He knew Peter wouldn't move until Peter was sure Neal was all right. "I'm okay," he promised.

Peter didn't pump his hand again until Neal gave him a small smile. He knew by now when Neal was ready for more. Neal seemed a little tense, so he thought he'd try some pillow talk to ease Neal. "I've been meaning to ask you something," he said quietly as he slipped the condom onto his length and slicked it with lube. Neal gave him a curious look as he waited. "Have you ever wanted to top? To be inside…me?"

"No." Peter was stunned by the automatic response. He assumed Neal might have to think about it for a moment or two. Then again, Neal never commented on switching positions entirely. "I don't like the idea of dominating someone as strong as you, Peter." He swallowed hard, blinking a little too quickly for Peter's comfort. "I like that you have _control_ over me," he whispered.

He wasn't sure what to think of that. He didn't consider making love to Neal the same as controlling Neal. He himself wasn't entirely into the idea of Neal being inside of him, but he'd been wondering where Neal stood on that, wondering if it might make Neal feel better to be in the powerful position. Rethinking that last thought, he realized Neal would never feel better with power. Neal didn't like that. He tended to be submissive and Peter was okay with that as long as Neal was okay, too. He makes love to Neal, takes Neal for himself, and never had to think about it because Neal never asked for anything else. If Neal were into that, he'd probably have mentioned it by now. "I wasn't sure if you ever wanted to give it a try."

Neal shook his head. He knew where Peter stood on this particular conversation, but that wasn't why he didn't want to top. "I don't… I honestly don't like topping." His face heated up a bit and he bit his lip. "I know it's…weird, but I never felt right when I was inside of someone else." He ran his fingers along Peter's arms, keeping his eyes locked onto Peter's. "I like having someone…_you_ inside of me." He was beginning to feel really embarrassed about the confession. Now he wondered if Peter _would_ think he's weak because he can't top properly. It made his stomach twist, thinking that Peter would look down on him because he wasn't strong enough to make himself top or enjoy it. Maybe Vincent had totally ruined him and he was realizing to what extent now.

The older man felt like _this_ was Adler's doing. He didn't agree with Neal's mother's belief that Neal was gay because of what Adler did to him, but he could reason that Neal didn't want to top because it scared him, because it might make him feel as though he were taking advantage of a lover. "As long as you're comfortable with that…"

Neal nodded. "I trust you with my body," he said sincerely. To emphasize that point, he spread his legs a little more. Peter kissed Neal's chest, licking his salty skin all the way up to his jaw before finally slipping into Neal's body. Neal made a quiet sound close to a whimper. Peter gave him a moment to adjust or tell him to stop before pushing in. Neal was gritting his teeth, his nails digging into Peter's shoulders. Peter pulled out, pushed in, pulled out again, and pushed in again—all at a slow pace to begin with. What was bothering Neal was that it seemed particularly rough this time.

Neal moaned and groaned alternatively, shutting his eyes tightly, trying to will the pain away. Peter was mouthing against Neal's throat and didn't seem to realize he was causing Neal pain. "I love you," he whispered into the hollow of Neal's throat. Neal forced himself not to cry out repeatedly. He knew Peter wasn't intentionally trying to hurt him. This wasn't a dream or a nightmare. This was reality and the reality was that Peter would probably hate himself once he realized what he was doing.

"Love you," Neal said through his teeth. His legs were around Peter's waist and his body shook. It was beginning to get to the point where he didn't understand what they were doing differently than any other time they'd made love. Neal couldn't remember ever hurting like this with Peter. He wanted to hold out and prove to himself that he was strong enough to brave a little bit of rough sex, but he was failing miserably. Something was off and he knew it wasn't intentional. He made a shaky, pained sound, begging quietly, "Peter. Peter, stop." He wasn't surprised by how immediate Peter's response was. He was concerned, unmoving. He lifted his head and rested a hand on Neal's chest. Neal was trying to keep himself under control, to push the pain and pressure aside, but he couldn't help that his breathing was heavy and that he was blinking back tears.

Peter watched each surge of pain cross Neal's expression in horror. "Holy shit. Neal, I'm so sorry." He was scrambling to comfort Neal, stroking his cheek, his hair, his neck. "I… I didn't mean to hurt you." He was also trying to pull out of Neal's body and Neal didn't want to end this just yet. He gripped Peter's leg, shaking his head. "Please, tell me what I did," Peter pleaded. "I _never_ meant to hurt you."

"I know," Neal breathed. "Maybe the angle was wrong," he whispered. He hoped that was it. He didn't want Peter to blame himself for being rough. Peter shook his head, stroking Neal's legs against his own hips. Everything looked the same to him as it always did.

"Not to put the blame on you or anything," Peter said, sounding unsure of himself, "but…were you uneasy before we got started?"

Neal sighed, shrugging halfheartedly. He didn't want to admit his thoughts to Peter. Peter never liked when he put himself down, but he couldn't bring himself to directly lie to Peter and say he was totally fine. "I don't know," he said, frustrated. "My stupid brain… Ugh." Peter sympathized, understanding that the conversation they had beforehand might not have been as soothing or relaxing as he'd been hoping it would be for Neal. If anything, he'd made Neal feel worse about himself. Peter started to pull himself away from Neal again, trying to disconnect their bodies so he could get Neal through whatever was going on in his mind as best he could. Even if Neal wanted to be held, he'd do whatever he could. "Peter, don't," Neal whispered. "Let's finish, then we can go lay down on the bed together."

Peter wasn't happy with that. He didn't want Neal to be tense and suffer. His hand shook as he rubbed over Neal's heart. He remembered all the times he'd promised Neal that he'd never hurt him during sex and that's exactly what he'd just done. "I'm so sorry…"

Neal grunted, trying to twist them with all of his strength. He'd wanted to get Peter on his back so that he could sit atop Peter, straddling him, but the most he managed was getting them to lie on their sides, facing each other. "Peter, I'm fine." Once again, Peter tried to slip out of him. "Love, _please._" He gripped Peter's hip, staring into his lover's eyes. He waited for Peter to relax and look at him. Thus far, Peter wasn't able to return Neal's gaze. Neal twisted them again and finally got them into the position he wanted them in without separating their bodies. "Peter," he said softly.

The younger man leaned forward and kissed his fiancé. He was happy when Peter's lips moved against his. That was good in Neal's mind. Even when Peter stroked Neal's throat, slowly making his way up to Neal's jaw, he knew they'd be okay. "I'm so sorry for hurting you," Peter said, sounding intensely emotional. "I can't believe I didn't realize you were in pain. The fact that I completely ignored you really pisses me off."

"Don't be pissed. It's not like you kept going when I asked you to stop." He pecked the other man's lips, smiling a little. "I'm not mad at you, babe. I'm not all that hurt either. In fact, I feel perfectly fine now." Perfectly fine might have been an overstatement, but he needed Peter to believe him.

Peter sighed. "I supposed I should just be happy that you stopped me instead of keeping silent."

Neal nodded, rubbing Peter's chest. "Just be happy. I'm okay—we're okay." Peter slowly carded his fingers through Neal's hair, startling when Neal bounced on him as a reminder that they were still together. "Are you opposed to finishing?" Peter was hesitant, fearing he'd hurt Neal again. He didn't think he could handle that. Eventually, he shook his head and Neal smiled. He held Neal's hips as the younger man slowly impaled himself repeatedly on Peter's cock. He moaned each time Peter hit his prostate, hissing, "Fuck," while throwing his head back.

Peter stopped Neal after a few minutes before Neal could sink down onto Peter again. Instead, Peter thrust up into him, eliciting louder, pleased moans. He made sure he was careful, made sure he was rubbing Neal's skin and keeping him relaxed. The younger man looked like he was in absolute ecstasy and it made Peter's heart flutter. He liked seeing Neal this way because it wasn't very often that Neal was completely, indisputably happy. That wasn't Neal's fault and he'd never say it was. So much has happened to Neal and he understood every part of it since Neal _made_ him understand. Peter felt that that helped their relationship. He wouldn't have been any less supportive if Neal kept himself closed, but it definitely helped when Neal let him in.

He wished he could always make Neal feel this good, look this happy. Neal deserved this. He deserved to be with a man who loved him in spite of his past. He deserved to be held when he wanted to be held, kissed when he wanted to be kissed, and he deserved to be told he was loved even if he didn't ask for it. Neal never deserved to suffer the way he has for a large portion of his life. If it were up to Peter, he'd have changed everything. He wanted Neal to live the life he'd been given. Peter was never rebellious or resentful of his parents. His parents loved him, encouraged him, and were there for him when he needed them. Neal's life had been lacking in all of those aspects. Peter was trying to make up for that now, but he knew Neal hated that he had no blood family other than his son and brother.

When Neal began to pant, Peter realized he'd totally zoned out even though he'd kept thrusting. Neal was trembling, which meant he was close. "Come on, babe," he whispered, kissing Neal's lips. He wanted Neal to come first. That was one of the most important things he did during sex. It was his job to make sure Neal was pleased, so he made damn sure Neal's orgasm was satisfying before he allowed himself the same experience. Neal cried out, crying Peter's name, as his legs gave out and he came in a blinding rush. Peter's chest was covered in Neal's seed and he didn't mind at all. He'd clean himself up this time though. Neal was thrilled when Peter liked how Neal tasted at times, so Peter would do that afterwards.

Neal's chest was heaving while Peter held him close. He'd practically collapsed on top of the older man. Peter was smiling, chuckling lightly as he played with Neal's hair. He himself was on the verge of release, but he wanted to watch Neal, to enjoy the sight of Neal in his afterglow.

"H-Holy _fuck,_" he moaned. He really wanted to lay down on Peter completely and just fall asleep, but he felt like that would be selfish of him—though he wouldn't mind it if Peter kept fucking him while he tried to sleep until Peter orgasmed as well. He knew Peter would never do that to him, even if he said it was okay. Peter kept telling him in recent months that he was done when Neal was done, but Neal insisted that that was a load of bullshit. Taking the initiative, he slowly bounced on Peter, sloppily kissing the older man.

It definitely wasn't long before Peter finished. Afterwards, they laid on the couch comfortably. Peter never minded having Neal's weight on him. It was his one surefire way of knowing Neal was alive, that Neal was all right. They'd disconnected their bodies, and Neal was beginning to squirm because of how uncomfortable his drying come on Peter's chest felt. Peter also wanted to get the condom off for much the same reason. He wanted to spend a little more time with Neal though, relaxed.

Peter, ever the strong and powerful man he was, tried and failed to flip them over so he could press Neal into the couch and kiss him lazily. He'd completely overdone it and ended up rolling them off of the couch. "Shit," he groaned when Neal's back hit the coffee table and both of their ribs connected with the hard floor. Neal was staring at Peter's face, a slight sting surging through his lower back, but he burst into laughter. The older man was startled because he thought he'd really hurt Neal in the fall. "It's not funny, brat," he murmured, pecking Neal's lips. "Are you okay?"

"Totally." Neal wouldn't admit that his back hurt a bit. He'd devastated Peter by admitting to the pain he was in during sex. Coupling that with this would probably depress the hell out of Peter, which would probably mean he wouldn't touch Neal for the duration of the night until they were in bed together. He pecked Peter's lips, smiling. "No worries, lover."

Peter rose to his feet, pulling Neal up with him. His right hand rested on the small of Neal's back and his left cupped Neal's cheek, his thumb lightly striking Neal's lips. "Neal?" The younger man raised an eyebrow in response. Peter felt ridiculous for saying, "Thank you" to Neal after they'd just finished making love, but he also felt that it was necessary for him to thank Neal on an emotional level. The physical thanks was all too obvious.

Neal blushed, smiling softly now. "I should be thanking you," he whispered.

Peter shook his head, taking Neal's lips passionately, cupping the back of Neal's head with the hand he'd originally had on Neal's cheek. He held Neal in place, moving his lips slowly against Neal's, trying to put all of his love into that single kiss. He hoped he'd conveyed it well enough and he realized he had when they parted moments later as soon as Neal grinned and dragged him towards the bathroom to shower up.

•◊•

The day before Peter's birthday was Neal's bridal party with the girls and Peter's birthday would be Peter's bachelor party. Three days following Peter's birthday, they'd be getting married—exactly two years to the date that they'd been together.

Peter, though Elizabeth forbade it, helped Neal get dressed for his party. He teased Neal about wearing a dress since that's what the girls would be wearing and Neal promptly punched Peter's chest playfully, pouting. Neal wasn't in the mood for a complete suit. He'd be wearing one for both of his wedding ceremonies and then he'd be stripped out of it the night after their family ceremony since he and Peter would go on a two-day honeymoon. It was the most either of them felt comfortable with, deciding that leaving Nicky for a week might be too long of a separation. They'd take a longer, belated honeymoon trip someday in the future and Peter promised him that they'd go to Paris.

Peter stepped back after he'd straightened out the vest and tie Neal had on. Quickly, he moved toward the bed, grabbing Neal's gray fedora. He flipped it onto Neal's head, eliciting a small laugh from the younger man. He smiled at his lover, freezing the moment in his mind. "You're gorgeous," he whispered. Neal smiled at him, appreciating the compliment. He thanked Peter and stepped forward to hug the older man tightly. "Just a few more days," Peter said against Neal's neck, "and you'll be my husband."

Neal shivered with anticipation, eager to change his and Nicky's surname. This relationship was permanent and very serious. He could never see himself marrying another man if things with Peter went wrong somehow. Opening up to Peter was the hardest thing he'd done in his life and continuing to do so was a struggle, but he'd done it. He'd pulled Peter in and held onto him tightly and Peter willingly stood at his side to give him his support. "I'm so excited," Neal murmured.

The older man squeezed Neal gently, smiling. "I love you, Nealie."

"Mm," Neal groaned. "I prefer Neal," he muttered. "I'd take Neal, sweetheart, babe, hon, honey, love, lover, and maybe even sexy over Nealie with you any day." Peter chuckled, kissing Neal's cheek. "But I love you, too, Peter."

"You're all of those terms of endearment, Neal. You forgot gorgeous, beautiful, and angel though."

Neal laughed. "When have you ever called me 'angel'?"

Peter pulled back and smirked at Neal. "I'm going to start now, _angel._" He always thought Neal was an angel, so he may as well say it aloud. He loved the look of excitement in Neal's eyes. He was just sad to have to send Neal to his absolute doom with the women for a few hours. "El's going to be here soon and she'll have my head if you're not out there the second she arrives."

The younger man nodded, laughing quietly. "Did she tell you she's kidnapping me the night before our wedding?"

"Seriously?" Neal nodded, smiling. "Oh, hell no," Peter said, chuckling. "I'll try to refrain from making love to you the night before our wedding to stick to some tradition, but I'm not sleeping alone."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "You would defy Elizabeth Almighty?"

Peter burst into laughter, kissing Neal sweetly. "That's great," he teased. "And yes. I know she'll kidnap you anyway, but you damn well better text me until you're too tired to keep it up."

Neal nodded, taking Peter's hands in his. "I will. I promise. I don't like the idea of spending the night without you either, but El will kill one or both of us if we try to talk her out of it or persuade her to let it slide."

"We won't be able to see each other until we meet at the courthouse," Peter said quietly. "She won't let me see you until we're about to get married—I swear she's a God damn movie and book junkie, using everything she's ever seen or read." Neal kept smiling, agreeing silently. "We'll have to make sure you have all of the paperwork you need before I 'let' her take you away from me for the night. You know I'll probably lose your papers in the midst of all of my own."

Neal laughed. "Just don't forget the divorce decree," he teased. "I know you'd like to put that behind you, but you'll screw us if you forget it."

"Will you remind me to bring the rings, too?" Peter asked sarcastically. Neal giggled and kissed Peter's jaw. "They're in a safe spot. We literally just bought them a couple days ago. I don't think even I could manage to lose them."

The younger man smirked. "We'll see, my love. I trust you with them though." They couldn't wait to get married and they definitely couldn't wait for their undercover op to come to an end. Taking their engagement rings off all the time was kind of depressing, as was pretending they were mere acquaintances instead of intimate lovers. They were being given two weeks to formulate a perfect plan and they'd get around to it after they came back from their two-day honeymoon.

Reese told them to enjoy themselves and celebrate their marriage. He didn't want to see a single text or receive a single phone call from either of them before they were due to return to the office. Both men appreciated that and were willing to take full advantage of secluding themselves for two days. They couldn't ignore Nicky or Mozzie if there was an emergency though, which would be the only reason they'd come home early if necessary.

Peter patted Neal's cheek before kissing him slowly, sliding his tongue against Neal's lips before the younger man opened his mouth and allowed Peter entrance. He wanted to keep going, to keep kissing Neal until they were completely out of breath, but Neal's phone buzzed. Both men parted, resting their foreheads together. Peter stroked Neal's sides, pecking Neal's lips occasionally. "I'd better let you get out there before she comes to get you. _That_ won't be pretty." Neal smiled, kissing Peter one last time before giving him a hug. "I'll see you tonight, honey. Have fun, please."

"Love you," Neal whispered, kissing Peter's neck. "See you tonight, love."

"Love you, too." They parted and couldn't help smiling softly at one another before Neal's phone buzzed again. "Have fun," Peter repeated as he walked Neal downstairs to the front door. He kissed Neal for the last time before letting him head out to Elizabeth's car. He leaned against the doorway, watching Neal strap himself in beside Elizabeth, talking and smiling while he did so. Neal turned to wave at him before they took off and that warmed Peter's heart. Neal was perfect in every way possible—even if Neal himself didn't see it that way.

He headed back up to the apartment, smiling to himself. Neal is the light of his life, he realized. He would be nothing without that man and he was eternally grateful to Neal for giving him such an immense amount of trust and love. Their relationship wasn't typical, but it was more than enough for both of them. They love each other deeply and were truly happy in each others' presence. The trust factor had significantly built itself up as they grew closer and Peter couldn't imagine living a life without Neal—having a future without Neal. Neal, for as damaged and hurt as he is, is the man Peter would never trade for anyone else. He fell in love with Neal before he knew all of his deep, dark secrets and he fell for Neal even harder once he was let inside Neal's mind. He'd never change one thing about their relationship. He wouldn't even change the arguments they've had in the past. They were closer because they worked through a problem instead of letting it fester and become something irreparable.

Making things work with Neal is the most satisfying thing he's ever done in his lifetime and he'd never wish for anything else. Neal's smiles, laugh, bed head, and _so_ much more made Peter love him. It had nothing to do with Neal being incredibly attractive. He considered that a perk, but he loved the man Neal was—loved everything that made him Neal. He loved the man who'd been hurt too many times, but came out of it with a heart of gold. Neal is a man who put effort into surviving and working through their problems. Peter would _never_ be able to fall out of love with Neal. It was just impossible to even consider.

•◊•

El took Neal to an extremely beautiful house in a very nice looking neighborhood. He wondered how she'd done all of this. Upon walking through the threshold, Neal was awed by the beautiful interior of the house. It was a bright white with party decorations all around. Tara rushed over to him, giggling as she put a veil over Neal's head. He rolled his eyes, but laughed anyway. Both El and Tara took his hands, leading him into what appeared to be the living room. "El, this is perfect," he said quietly.

Rebecca was sitting on the couch with Ellen and Peter's mother. Neal was surprised to see Hannah. Last he knew, she wasn't sure she'd be able to come down. She got up from the couch and walked over to him, pulling him into a hug. "Hi, sweetheart. Surprise," she whispered, kissing his cheek.

He smiled. "Glad you could come, mom," he said in return. Hannah and Ellen were both given the honor of being in positions that allowed them to be called 'mom.' Neal wouldn't have called them mom if he didn't trust or love them. Ellen was next to give him a hug and she felt extremely overwhelmed all of a sudden. "Mom, you okay?" he asked her.

"Oh, honey," she said, sobbing into his chest. "I remember when you were so little. Now you're all grown up and settling into a happy life."

"I'm always going to be that little boy to you," he whispered, squeezing her gently. "And you'll always be my mom."

She laughed lightly, pulling back to wipe her eyes. She smiled up at him, resting her other hand on his chest. "I'm so proud of you and happy for you." She patted his chest. "All right, my dear. Let's get the party started before El goes crazy."

He chuckled, nodding. Ellen, Hannah, and Elizabeth went to retrieve the gifts they would be giving to Neal. He told them they didn't have to bring anything, but they all insisted. He went to sit on the couch beside Rebecca, smiling softly at her. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, smiling back. They hadn't been able to meet up for coffee like they'd planned. Neal's undercover operation got in the way of that, but he was glad she still came. "You look great, Neal—happy."

"I am happy," he said, laughing lightly. "Peter's the best thing that's happened to me. Well, him and Nicky." She nodded and he rested a hand on top of hers. "You're looking great, too, Rebecca. It's been a while."

She nodded again. "That, it has been. I missed you."

As much as Neal didn't want to say it, he missed her, too. She was one of the first people he'd spoken to in their group therapy and she understood him. "I missed you," he said, pulling her into an awkward hug on the couch. "Thanks so much for coming. I really appreciate it."

The ladies came back bearing gifts. He sighed and let go of Rebecca, watching them set the gifts down on the table in front of him. "Open 'em!" Tara said excitedly. He laughed, nodding.

The first gift he pulled closer was from Hannah. He smiled at her and began to open it. As soon as he pulled the top off of the box, his face went bright red. A camera snapped and the girls all giggled. "Wow. You all knew about this?"

"It felt like my obligation to give you some lingerie for the honeymoon because you're marrying my son. And El told me Peter likes lace." Neal raised an eyebrow, looking at Peter's ex-wife. She gave him a goofy grin and he just shook his head. There were at least three pairs of black, white, and red see-through underwear.

He closed the box, ducking his head as the women around him all giggled again. "Sincerely hoping there isn't more of that," he murmured.

"You may want to open mine next then," Tara said timidly. He gave her a look of disbelief. She was all too eager to buy him and Peter several packs of condoms, but he didn't realize she'd be into giving him kinky clothing as well. She giggled, grabbing her small box. She handed it to Neal and he sighed before opening it.

As soon as he opened it, he said, "Holy _fuck._" Now he preferred the lingerie Hannah had given him. Tara got him a bunch of thongs. They varied in color and only a few of them were actually solidly covered in the front. He looked at Tara, eyes wide and lips parted. Another camera snapped and he realized they bought him a bunch of things to embarrass him so far because they wanted pictures. She kissed his cheek and took his left hand. "Anything else I should be warned about?" he asked laughingly.

Tara leaned against his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. No one gave him a reason not to open any of the other gifts, so he continued. Ellen gave him a bottle of wine with two glasses provided, telling him that was only meant for the honeymoon. Rebecca gave him two fedoras—a black one and a white one. She said he could wear the black one to his private ceremony and the white one to his family ceremony because he was dressing differently for both. That was Elizabeth's doing. Alex, who'd been completely quiet in a corner of the room, gave him two cigars. She knew he didn't smoke, but suggested that maybe he and Peter could just once together.

His last gift was from Elizabeth. Inside of a box, he found a carved heart made of wood with his and Peter's names written very elegantly in the middle, the 'r' and 'l' at the ends of their names intertwining.

After he'd finished opening his gifts, he went through a round of hugging and thanking the girls. El promised that Diana would show up soon enough and that June was coming back to the city within the hour.

They all wanted to take individual pictures with Neal, making him show off his ring in each one. He kept the veil on, thinking it was funny atop his fedora. After they took 'formal' pictures with him, they took silly pictures. He was having a lot of fun making faces at them, getting kissed on the cheek or temple by them, and posing goofily with them.

By the time things began to settle down and they were all sipping wine, Neal managed to sneak away from the group of ladies and find a bathroom to lock himself in with his phone. He texted Peter, telling him, "I'm having a lot of fun. Will show you pictures later. Love you."

In a matter of minutes, Peter replied, "_Sounds good. Love you, angel. Keep having fun!_"

When he went back into the living room, he sat down between El and Tara, listening to them all talk about the wedding plans and what they were all wearing. Neal decided—with El's insistence and Peter's agreement—that blue was the theme of the wedding, so the ladies would be wearing bright blue dresses and the men would be wearing tuxes with ties the same shade of blue. Peter would be in black for both ceremonies and Neal would wear gray to the private ceremony and white to the family ceremony.

He realized, as he listened to them, that he wouldn't be here if he'd never met Peter, if he'd been too afraid to fall in love with Peter. Now more than ever, he was proud of himself for facing his fears, for opening himself up to Peter. He wouldn't be nearly this happy or in love with anyone else—that, he was damn sure of.

He was able to smile and actually _feel_ happy. Peter would always be his greatest achievement in life, he believed, because Peter helped Neal break out of his shell and become the man he'd always wanted to be regardless of what'd been done to him. Rubbing his engagement ring, he knew _for sure_ that Peter was right. He knew he deserved to be happy and knew he deserved _Peter._ He rarely found himself admitting to things like that, but he actually believed himself this time.


	55. Chapter 55

"Isn't Neal supposed to show up?" Jones asked Peter over the loud music playing in the club.

Peter nodded. "He'll be here soon. El's got a few things to work out with him first."

Bruce came over to them with another round, grinning. Peter was glad he'd chosen Bruce as his best man and he was glad Bruce was able to make it up from DC for this. It meant a lot to him and he really couldn't wait to introduce Bruce to the love of his life. Peter chugged the beer he'd been given, taking the fact that he'd have to take care of Neal's alcohol consumption into consideration. Neal was pretty good about his limits, but Peter didn't want Neal to get drunk. He himself wasn't planning on getting drunk either. "Where's that boy you fished out of the sea?"

Peter chuckled, pulling his phone out to check his messages. Neal sent him a message two minutes ago to tell him he was en route. "He's on his way now. You'll love him, Bruce." He grinned at his best friend. "He's absolutely perfect."

"You always were a perfectionist," Bruce commented. Peter gave him a wry smile. "I'm sure I'll like the man you've dedicated your life, too, Peter. If he's made you happy all this time, he's good for you." Bruce wasn't aware of everything Neal had gone through and Peter wasn't inclined to tell him the whole story unless Neal chose to tell it. Bruce knew the essentials about Neal, but nothing absolutely personal.

Peter had another beer in his hand as he sat on the circular couch. It'd been at least ten minutes since he last heard from Neal, so he was lazily waiting for his fiancé. It didn't help that he was buzzed. When Neal came in, he was wearing skintight black jeans, a grey loose-fitting silky shirt, and his fedora. Peter was awestruck as he watched Neal search for him in the sea of club employees and Peter's group. He held his hand up and caught Neal's attention. The younger man sighed, smiling affectionately at his lover as he crossed the large room. "Hey, you," he murmured, leaning towards Peter to peck his lips.

The older man held his arms out and Neal jumped into his lap, wrapping his arms around Peter's neck. "Hey, yourself," he whispered, bumping his nose against Neal's.

"Mm. You're drunk," Neal said quietly against Peter's lips.

"Buzzed," Peter corrected. "No more for me after this one," he promised, showing Neal how close he was to finishing the bottle. He scooted forward on the couch, standing while he held Neal in his arms. The younger man chuckled. He loved when Peter held him like this. He felt weightless, like he was high up in the clouds. Maybe he just felt _high._

He glanced over Peter's shoulder and saw Jon and James near the bar. He was relieved to see that they weren't getting into an argument. He had to admit that he was reluctant to give Peter his blessing to invite James. It wasn't Neal's party, but Peter asked Neal what he thought since he'd also invited Neal. "I take it this is the future Mister Neal Burke?" Peter spun, laughing happily as he nodded. He gently set Neal down. "Bruce Hawes," he introduced himself, holding his hand out. Neal shook it, smiling. "Pleased to finally meet you. Peter kept talking about you and the suspense was killing me."

Neal chuckled. "It's nice to finally put a face to your name as well." Peter's hand rested low on Neal's back, nearing his ass. He was really beginning to think Peter was more than just buzzed. He didn't mind. It just meant he could have maybe _one_ drink since he'd have to drive them home.

Mozzie and Jones were holding a conversation off in another corner of the room, which Neal was surprised to see. Mozzie barely put up with Neal and Peter for being Suits. To put up with someone outside of their immediate circle was something that didn't happen every day.

They all met up near the circular couch, spreading themselves out over it. Peter held Neal close, Bruce and Mozzie sitting beside them respectively. Neal wasn't sure what to expect. The guys were still drinking—he'd denied Peter two drinks already since arriving. James and Jon stood behind the couch, Jon standing behind Peter and Neal with his hands on both of their shoulders.

Neal and Peter were murmuring quiet words to each other until what appeared to be a waiter came out with an ensemble of women. Neal raised an eyebrow and Peter glanced in the direction Neal was looking in. "I heard we've got a bachelor in the club?"

"Hell yes!" Jones and Bruce said simultaneously. Neal had a bad feeling all of a sudden.

The waiter immediately focused on Peter, grinning mischievously. The women dispersed themselves amongst the other men. Neal politely declined the lap dance one of the women offered him and he was stunned when the man who'd spoken before started grinding on _his_ fiancé. Peter paled, trying not to watch the man who began stripping for him. Neal noticed that the women were stripping for the others and he was suddenly extremely uncomfortable. The man stripping for and grinding on Peter was practically dry humping Peter, which pissed Neal off to no end. The fact that Peter didn't push the other man away didn't help ease his foul mood either. "Uh, excuse me," Neal said firmly. "I can be a striptease for my fiancé, thank you very much." The man looked stunned to see Neal. He hadn't expected Peter's fiancé to be here with him. He respectfully stepped back and Peter tried to take Neal's hand, but Neal quickly got up from the couch and went to the bar to get a drink.

James watched his son, hurting with him. Peter spun to look up at both his father and Neal's father. "I swear, I had no idea we were having strippers," he whispered, horrified.

"Better get your ass over there, Peter Michael Burke," Jon said.

Without another word, Peter leapt off of the couch and went to join Neal. Neal was hunched over the bar, downing a few shots of whiskey. "Babe, take it easy," Peter said, resting a hand between Neal's shoulder blades. Neal glared at him. "I didn't know we ordered strippers, Neal. I swear I would've told you if I knew."

"Didn't look like you wanted to shove him away," Neal muttered, the bitterness of jealousy dripping from his voice.

Peter leaned closer, kissing Neal's jaw. "Honey, I won't say I'm too buzzed to know what I'm doing. I panicked, okay? I thought it was kind of obvious that we were together, so I wasn't expecting…_that._" Neal grunted in response, grabbing another shot. "Angel, listen to me," Peter pleaded. "You _know_ I'd tell you in advance—"

"How does your best friend plan your bachelor party without you knowing about the strippers? Especially the _one male stripper_ who seemed to know exactly who he was going to dry hump in front of me."

"I told him he could have some women come strip for them. I told him I wasn't interested for _this reason._" He was trying to get Neal to calm down, knowing how angry and upset he was. Hell, he'd feel the same way if their positions were reversed. If this had happened to Neal, Peter actually would have understood why Neal didn't push the stripper away. He would have been terrified by the sudden sexual intent of a stranger. "Angel, I wouldn't lie to you about this. Do you honestly think I would've invited you if I knew?"

Peter realized he'd fucked up royally when Neal looked even angrier. "Oh, so I wouldn't have been invited if you knew about him." Peter started to stammer an apology, but Neal shook his head. "No, I get it. It's okay. I'm not supposed to be here anyway. Have fun, Peter." He set his glass down and turned abruptly, heading for the exit.

Peter chased after him, tugging Neal's hand. "Don't leave."

"Let _go,_" Neal whispered, his voice tight.

The older man knew he was really testing Neal's patience, but he didn't want to let Neal leave like this. "Neal, please, don't leave," he pleaded quietly. He was staring at Neal's face, trying to will the younger man to relax and _stay._

"I'm just gonna ruin your fun. This is your bachelor party, so you should—"

"You're about to be my husband," Peter interjected. "You're more important to me than some damn party." Some of Neal's tension dissipated in that moment and Peter was relieved. "I want you to be here, Neal. If I didn't, I wouldn't be trying so desperately to beg you not to leave me."

Neal's jaw was tensed and all Peter wanted to do was stroke Neal's face until his jaw relaxed. "If I have to sit through another show for you, I—"

"There won't be another…show," he assured Neal. "No more strippers for me, honey, unless you're the one stripping." He laughed lightly, trying for levity since Neal was still tense. Neal only stared blankly before walking past him to rejoin the other men. Peter sighed, following his lover. Neal sat on the other side of Mozzie at the very edge of the couch, which meant Peter wasn't going to be sitting beside him at the moment. He kept glancing at Neal, but Neal was looking away.

As the night wore on, Neal drank a little more than he'd intended to. Peter didn't realize it until Neal got up to go to the bathroom and nearly stumbled over the table not too far away. "Son of a bitch," Neal hissed, stepping around the table tentatively, rubbing his face. Peter gaped at his lover for a moment before jumping up to follow him. He was worried about Neal now. When he got into the bathroom, Neal was relieving himself. He'd seen everything after being with Neal for so long, so he didn't really care. He just waited patiently for Neal to finish and zip himself up. When Neal turned, he startled. "Seriously? Watching me piss now?"

Neal brushed past him unsteadily, washing his hands. "I came to check on you," Peter said softly. "We…haven't talked for a little while."

"I'm kinda pissed off with you if you couldn't tell," Neal said bluntly.

Neal could be a silly drunk or an angry drunk. This happened to be one of the latter situations. Neal wasn't furious. He just wasn't happy and made it known. "Angel… Let me take you home."

"We're both fucked in the head, Peter. If we drive, we'll probably kill ourselves. I'm fucking shitfaced and I know that was a stupid suggestion."

Peter bristled a bit at that. "Can you tone it down on the hostility? You know damn well I love you more than anyone in this whole world, Neal."

"I'm second to strippers."

Growling, Peter grabbed Neal and pulled him into a tight hug, whispering fiercely, "No one will _ever_ come before _you._ You're everything—_everything_ to me." He kissed Neal's shoulder, closing his eyes. "Don't you ever doubt that, Neal. I'd give my life for you. Don't make me sing '_Grenade._'"

Neal breathed in Peter's scent and he wasn't sure what he was heavily intoxicated by more—Peter or the whiskey. His vision was tunneled, so he could only really register Peter's neck in his foggy mind. "Only thing I'd change in that song is that I _would_ do the same for you," he whispered.

"I'll never love anyone more than I love you," Peter murmured. "Remember that when you think you aren't worth anything. I want you in my life. I crave you and your love. Neal, I need to hear your voice and see your face every day to stay sane." He kissed Neal's throat. "I'd be nothing without you."

Neal shrugged, leaning heavily on his lover in his drunken state. "You'd still be a world-class FBI agent," he muttered. "It just wouldn't be nearly as exciting without me."

Peter chuckled, kissing Neal's jaw. "My life wouldn't be very eventful," he said happily. Neal began to hum something Peter didn't recognize. He just held Neal and listened to him. When Neal started rocking them, he smiled softly, resting his head on Neal's shoulder just as the younger man did the same with his shoulder. They slowly turned and Neal's attempt to lead was futile since his vision was slightly off. He nearly collapsed a few times and he would have if Peter hadn't righted him almost immediately. He supported his lover's weight entirely, slowly dancing with Neal.

He figured this could be so much better if Neal were sober, so he told himself he'd get at least one dance out of Neal while they were on their honeymoon. He wasn't telling Neal where they were going just yet and Neal seemed inclined to wait for the surprise. "_I will let you go when the world stops spinning,_" Neal whispered twice. "_I will let you go when the stars explode…and the world stops spinning._" He knew this is what Neal had been humming to, but he couldn't recall hearing the song before. Neal, even when drunk, sounded beautiful—slurs and all. "_I don't need a savior, I don't need a saint. When the moment comes, I'll be calling out your name. How I long to be with you till the end…_" The younger man sighed contentedly against Peter, holding him tightly.

It took a few seconds longer for Peter to realize Neal was crying. "Honey?" He gently pulled back to look at Neal's face. Neal's eyes were glossed over already from the alcohol. "Hon, what is it?" Neal just kept crying and he had no idea why. He hadn't said anything to upset Neal. He took Neal's hands in his, kissing his knuckles.

Neal gasped for breath before he could speak, rubbing his eyes and cheeks. "I don't know," he said miserably.

"Okay. Okay, babe." He held his arms out and Neal crushed himself against Peter, taking refuge in the physical closeness. Peter stroked Neal's hair, rocking them from side to side, shushing Neal as Neal made small whimpering sounds. "It's okay, Neal. It's okay." He had no idea what he was trying to convince Neal of, but it seemed to be helping nonetheless.

The bathroom door swung open and Jon came in, giving the boys a bewildered look. Peter glanced at his father. "Is he all right?"

Peter gave him a small smile. "Yeah. He's just kind of drunk." Jon nodded, stepping closer to them. "I'm thinking about calling it a night. He's physically and emotionally beat and I can't say I'm too far behind him." He kissed Neal's shoulder gently, sighing. "Neither of us can drive ourselves. Did you or James drive here?"

"Mozzie brought James. I can probably take you two home if—"

"Neal drove here. We can't leave the car here overnight."

"I'll ask James to drive it back and then I'll give him a lift to wherever he's staying."

Peter nodded, rubbing Neal's back. "Thanks, dad. I really appreciate it."

Jon shook his head, chuckling. "You're my boys. I'm proud of you for being responsible after drinking."

Everyone started getting ready to head home. James agreed to drive the Taurus home and Neal drunkenly offered to sit in the car with him, claiming he wanted to make sure Peter's stuff wasn't messed with. Peter had no idea what he was talking about and figured Neal had no idea either, but he let Neal ride with James while he rode with his father.

James drove carefully since it started pouring on the way back to the apartment. He glanced over at Neal, watching his son slowly slump towards the window or the dashboard occasionally. "Hey," he whispered, reaching over to touch Neal's shoulder. "Careful, kid. Can you try to sit upright for me?" Neal tried really hard to, but he was starting to get nauseous. "You okay?" James asked a moment later.

"Need Peter," he murmured. He flinched and cringed, which confused James. "Please."

James was surprised when Neal started trembling. "Neal, what's wrong?" Neal didn't answer, unbuckling himself quickly and James had to hit the breaks hard just as Neal threw the door open and jumped out, falling to his knees. James got out and rounded the front of the car, finding his son vomiting in the grass. He crouched beside Neal, rubbing his back. They were both getting soaked and Neal's breathing was shallow. "Jesus, kid. What's going on?"

Neal couldn't tell James. He was having sudden flashbacks that he didn't remember very well. He heard Vincent talking to him, telling him they'd be back home and in bed together soon. He'd been laying in the backseat, curled up and crying silently while lightning flashed overhead. He tried sleeping in the car on the way home, but Vincent didn't let him. He'd kept Neal awake and he'd tortured Neal all through the night. Neal was hurt badly enough to miss school for two days following, but Vincent didn't let him sleep the pain off. "I need Peter," he sobbed. "Peter!"

•◊•

"C'mon. That's it." Neal swallowed hard as Peter led him up to the apartment. Jon and James followed them, concerned. James had no idea what happened out there, but he'd taken Neal's phone after Neal unlocked it for him and he'd called Peter, telling him what was going on. Jon turned their car around and came right back to where James and Neal were.

As soon as James told Peter how Neal was acting, he _knew._ He stayed with Neal in the back of the Taurus while James drove. He unlocked the apartment door and was surprised to see candles lit on the table. He could smell something cooking, too. He found that strange. Michael didn't usually cook. "I'm okay," Neal said shakily as Peter helped him lower himself down to the couch. He breathed heavily, bowing his head as Peter knelt in front of him, resting his hands on Neal's knees. "I don't… I don't know what happened."

Peter nodded, sliding his hands halfway up Neal's thighs and then back down to his knees. "That's all right. Just take it easy, honey." He was smiling softly at Neal, trying to ease Neal's tension. Neal put his hands over Peter's, watching their hands move as Peter continued to rub Neal's thighs. Peter decided to distract Neal by asking, "Were you making dinner for us?" He nodded over his shoulder and Neal glanced over, nodding. "Are you hungry?"

"Kinda." He sighed and nodded slowly, his eyes seeming distant.

Peter silently watched his lover. He had no idea what triggered the flashback. He just hoped Neal would be okay. For now, Neal didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it and that was fine. Maybe it was just because their fathers were still around. If Neal wanted to talk, he knew Peter would always listen. It's just that he wanted to talk with _only_ Peter. "Is there anything we can do?" James asked, watching his son concernedly.

"Unfortunately, no. He'll be all right." He looked at Neal, finding the younger man's eyes on him now. "You _will_ be all right, hon." Peter rose up enough to kiss Neal's forehead before rising to his full height. "I'll take care of him," he whispered, running his fingers through Neal's hair before moving towards their fathers.

James looked miserable. "What happened? He seemed fine and—"

Peter shook his head, whispering, "I'm not at liberty to discuss this. That's his decision." He glanced over his shoulder, frowning when he saw Neal leaning forward with his face in his hands. "He'll be okay soon. I'll make sure of it."

Jon hugged Peter a few moments later, kissing his son's cheek. "Good night, Peter, and happy birthday. Hope the bachelor party was good."

"It was," Peter said with a smile.

"Happy birthday, Peter," James said, forcing a small smile.

Peter was startled when arms slid around his waist and a sudden weight was pressed against his back. He rested his hands on Neal's. "Thanks, guys. I had fun at the party. Better make damn sure we don't drink this much during the wedding though." Both of their fathers chuckled. "All right. We'll let you guys head out. Thanks for bringing us home."

Neal's arms slid away and he stepped over to the side, immediately hugging Jon. Jon was surprised at first, but hugged Neal, smiling. He rubbed Neal's back and kissed his cheek as well. Peter smiled, watching his lover and father. Neal really did see Jon as a father. "Peter will get you through this, son," Jon whispered. "I know you're a strong man, too. You'll be just fine." Neal nodded, his face in the crook of Jon's neck. Jon knew this was more than just a hug to say good night. This was his way of showing he trusted Jon and needed some emotional support from him. He just didn't realize it until he was in Jon's arms.

Jon never treated him like shit and Neal appreciated that. From the start, Jon made him feel welcome. "Thanks, dad," he whispered. He inhaled sharply before exhaling and backing away. Jon smiled at him, loving Neal as much as he loves Peter. The hug Neal gave James seemed awkward at first, but they relaxed into it. He wasn't looking for support from James and that was pretty clear to both Peter and Jon.

Neal tentatively tried to back away, but James hugged him tighter. "I'm proud of you," James said. "You're a good man, Neal, and you picked another good man to spend the rest of your life with." He stroked Neal's hair, his eyes watering as he said, "You're going to be all right, son. Jon and I are here for you as much as Peter is, so don't feel like you can't come to us, too."

"Thank you," Neal said politely. His father knew what'd happened to him in the simplest of explanations and that was all Neal wanted him to know. Jon knew everything and he'd been there to help Neal even though they lived hours apart. Neal loved Jon in a way he'd never loved his mother and he definitely loved Hannah more than his own mother. He really appreciated that Peter's parents were there for him when his own abandoned him.

James was in his life, but he wasn't sure how open he wanted to be just yet. He didn't like the small, pitiful looks he received from his father sometimes. Jon never looked at him that way because he understood Neal's pain. James didn't.

Both of their fathers said good night to the couple before leaving. Neal shut the door, frowning. "Hey," Peter whispered, stepping forward to rest his hand on Neal's back. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Feeling a little better now." Neal turned and Peter kissed his forehead. "Can I… First of all, I have a present for you. It kind of sucks, but…yeah."

Peter smiled at him. "The greatest gift I could receive again and again every holiday and every birthday is _you,_ Neal." Neal blushed furiously, smiling despite his mood. "There's the sun," Peter teased, caressing Neal's cheek.

Neal took Peter's hand and led him over to his easel. Peter was confused for a moment. Surely Neal hadn't worked on something for him that he hadn't already seen? He was shocked when Neal flipped the large canvas open to reveal a painting of Peter. The older man's lips parted as he looked at it. He found himself looking startlingly attractive in the painting and he normally didn't think of himself that way, especially when he stood alongside Neal. The more he looked at it, he recognized exactly when Neal had sketched it.

In the painting, he was lying on his stomach on their bed, looking up at Neal with a goofy smile and tired eyes. The blanket was halfway down his bare back and his left arm extended towards where Neal was sitting, though Neal hadn't included himself in anyway. He remembered waking up that morning to find Neal sketching. He never minded when Neal took advantage of the fact that he was asleep because he understood the beauty of sleep. After all, he found Neal absolutely beautiful and peaceful when he sleeps.

"This is how you look to me," Neal whispered. Peter finally turned to him. Neal was biting his lip nervously, his eyes slightly fearful. His entire posture screamed nervousness and Peter didn't understand. Neal's a very talented artist and Peter was fairly certain he knew it.

"I love it," he whispered in response, giving his lover a soft smile. Neal looked away. He didn't believe Peter. The older man stepped in front of Neal, gently holding the sides of his face while he kissed Neal. It was a quick, passionate kiss that left Neal breathless. "It's perfect, Neal."

The younger man shrugged a bit, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It's a really cheap present and you always do expensive things for—"

Peter pressed a finger to Neal's lips, silencing the younger man. "This is _far_ from cheap, my love. I look at this and you know what I see?" He paused, searching Neal's eyes. "I see the way you feel about me when you look at me. It's _priceless._ This is a beautiful painting Neal and it makes me actually like how I look—for however brief a time."

Neal chuckled, giving Peter a goofy grin. "You really like it then?"

Peter kissed Neal hard before murmuring, "Yes, angel," against his lips. He rested his forehead against Neal's, holding the younger man's hips. "Neal, I love you. I love you a lot more than I can say in words."

"I love you, too—just as much if not more."

"You're drunk. Of course you'll think you love me more."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "I'm sobering up. I wasn't _that_ drunk, Burke," he said, poking Peter's chest as he wandered over to the stove. Peter couldn't help smiling at the fact that Neal still stumbled a bit.

"You know you'll be a Burke in a matter of days," he said softly as Neal bent to pull lasagna out, setting it atop the stove.

Neal glanced back at him, smiling. "I can't wait, Peter." He turned back towards the kitchen, grabbing two plates out of the cupboard. Michael was already asleep if not 'hanging out' with Mel in his downstairs room and Nicky was with Trenton, so the two men had the apartment to themselves. Peter admired the painting a little more before turning his attention towards Neal again. "I never saw myself getting married," the younger man said, "until you."

Peter slowly stepped towards Neal as the younger man dished out lasagna for them both. He rested a hand on the small of Neal's back. "I never saw myself happy until you," he said quietly, watching Neal's face.

The two took their dishes into their bedroom and ate on the bed with the television on and muted. Peter watched Neal eat and couldn't help laughing lightly. He never imagined falling so madly in love with someone like Neal. Neal was perfect in his eyes and he felt as though he didn't deserve Neal sometimes. It was times like this when Peter sat beside Neal and just _looked_ at him, knowing damn well they were meant to be together and they were destined to _stay together._


	56. Chapter 56

Neal and Peter spent the night after Peter's party discussing what they'd do after their weddings. Peter would legally adopt Nicky as his son when they came back from their honeymoon and they'd have to do the run-around to get documents changed. Neal was planning on going directly to the DMV the day of so he could have all of his information legally changed with official representation on his driver's license—he'd already mailed in an application for a new social security number with his married name a little over a week ago and was sincerely hoping he'd get it the day of their wedding so he could change all of his information from 'Neal Caffrey' to 'Neal Burke.' He was still trying to figure things out with his passport and such, but he'd get to that eventually since he wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

The following days after Peter's bachelor party were chaotic. Peter and Neal both had to go down to the clerk's office to apply for their marriage license together before work. They went right at eight-thirty when it opened because they'd have to wait twenty-four hours before they could get married and they both wanted to get there as early as possible so they could get married as early as possible the next day. To be fair, they split the fee of the license nearly in halves with Peter paying the extra dollar since he'd almost forgotten his divorce decree, which would have screwed them according to Neal.

While they took care of that, Elizabeth was running around last minute trying to find someone to supply flowers for the family ceremony since the original florist seemed to have cancelled their arrangement. She had no problem with the caterers and she was relieved for that. Neal and Peter's suits were at the drycleaner courtesy of June. She had to go pick them up for the couple and she didn't mind since they were working pretty hard. However, as soon as she'd gotten to the drycleaner and grabbed the suits, she realized Peter's suit was _ruined_ with a stain and Neal's suit wasn't _Neal's suit._ She was beyond pissed off by that point and made sure the drycleaners knew about it.

She'd gotten Peter on the phone so she could complain to him. She was really in need of a bitching session and Peter always let her go to him for that. She didn't want to bother Neal with it because he was stressed enough. His suit for Nicky seemed to have gotten lost and his father decided to tell him last minute that he thought about asking Maryann to come as his plus one. Neal was adamant when he said, "There's no way in fucking hell she's coming to my wedding," and that seemed to be the end of that, but his mother wasn't happy about it and _she_ made it known by sending vicious text messages and emails to Neal.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" El asked, finally catching Neal in the midst of the chaos. Peter was working and Neal was chosen to tag along with El. He nodded, rubbing his temples. "Do I need to get Peter on the phone?" She wasn't trying to imply that he was an emotional wreck and couldn't handle the flashbacks very well on his own, but Neal felt like she did for a split second.

"No," he said tightly. "It's not _that._ I've got one hell of a migraine and no pain relievers." To his surprise, El pulled a bottle out of her purse, popped the top, and slipped four ibuprofens into his hand. "Should've gone to you forever ago. Wish I'd known that you had goodies in your bag this whole time."

She grinned. "I'm your maid of honor, darling. I've got _everything_ you'll need." She patted his cheek and kissed his nose. "Thanks for coming with me, sweetie. I would probably rip some heads off of these innocent people if you weren't helping me."

He chuckled. "Glad I could spare them of that," he teased.

"Have you talked to Peter about tonight?"

Neal nodded. "He'll be just fine. It's one night—and I'm packed up already." He was so excited despite this hell they were struggling to pull themselves out of at the moment. El would resolve everything before tomorrow morning. That's what he kept telling himself. "He's going to drop me off around ten or eleven." She cocked an eyebrow at him and he held his hands up to his chest level, pleading innocence. "He wants to keep me as long as he can before you kidnap me for the night."

She rolled her eyes, taking his hand. The two of them walked through the arch he and Peter would get married under for the family ceremony. "You'll see each other bright and early tomorrow morning when we head down to the courthouse." She squeezed his hand. "You put me in charge, so I'm calling the shots, sweetie. You're hiding out with me until you're absolutely ready to get married to him."

"He's seen me in the suit already," Neal said, chuckling. At the menacing look she gave him, he conceded. "But all right. You know how to do these things better than I do, so I trust you."

It took a few more hours, but they'd finally gotten everything fixed. He'd compromised with El to make up for the suit problem and said he'd wear his white suit to the private ceremony and Peter could use another one of his black suits, and then they could all dress comfortably for the family ceremony. She reluctantly agreed, but made him promise he'd wear something blue. After he'd done that, she approved everything else he suggested and they were done. El dropped him off at June's house and he went up to the apartment. Peter was already home with Nicky by this point, and he was really looking forward to just crashing on the bed with one or both of them. "Mon frère?" Neal startled and turned in the hall just before he opened the apartment door. "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

Neal's eyebrows drew together in concern. "Of course, Moz. What's up?"

"After your family ceremony, Bruce is going to toast you both—as will your father-in-law." Neal knew where this was going and his expression softened with a smile. "Would you be against the idea of me toasting to you and Suit?"

The younger man laughed, shaking his head. "I'd love that, Moz. You didn't even have to ask. It could've been impromptu." Mozzie gave him a small smile and Neal stepped forward, hugging his best friend. "Thanks, Moz."

The two men went up into the apartment to find Peter and Nicky playing _Just Dance._ Neal grinned, watching Peter dance. Honestly, he sucked at it, but Neal _loved_ it. He shut the door quietly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the two people he loves most have fun together. Nicky was giggling, bumping into Peter on occasion. "You're losing, poppa!"

"How can you tell?" Peter asked incredulously. Neal couldn't help bursting into laughter. Even Mozzie was amused. Peter froze and turned, his face going bright red. He was so against playing the game, especially with Neal because he felt that Neal danced _so_ much better than him. "Hey, Neal," he said, rubbing his neck.

Neal walked over to Peter, resting a hand on Peter's hip and chest, smiling before leaning up to peck Peter's lips. "Hey, babe." Peter's arms slid around Neal's torso and he deepened their kiss after a moment. He knew he'd have to give Neal up for the night, so he wanted to make the most of it now. "Want me to start cooking dinner since you worked all day?"

Peter cocked an eyebrow at him. "I hope you realize that El kept me updated on _your_ work, my love." Neal rolled his eyes. "She said you were extremely helpful and she couldn't have done it without you."

Neal shrugged, kissing Peter again before slipping out of his hold. "Hey, daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?" he said as he took his suit jacket off and hung it on the back of the chair he used at the kitchen table. Nicky darted over to him and grabbed his father's hands, pulling him. Neal smiled, chuckling. "What's up, Nicky?"

He pulled Neal across the room, putting distance between them and Peter and Mozzie. "Daddy, I made something for you, but you have to close your eyes, okay?" Neal nodded and closed his eyes while Nicky ran off. In a matter of moments, Nicky was back. "Hold your hand out, daddy." Neal did as Nicky asked, keeping his eyes closed. He felt what he assumed was some piece of jewelry and was curious, but he'd wait until Nicky said he could look. "I made it at school. You can look."

Neal opened his eyes and looked at the bracelet in his hand. He read the small letters between the beads and it said 'daddy' on one side with 'hero' on the other. He smiled at his son, kneeling in front of him. Neal pulled Nicky in for a hug and kissed his neck. "Thank you, Nicky," he whispered. "It means a lot to me." And it did. It was simple, but it was one way Nicky told Neal that he loves him. And Neal really needed things like this.

Nicky pulled back and smiled at his father. "I know you've been kinda sad, daddy. I wanted to make you something you can always have on you."

His father's lips parted. "Nick, I'm perfectly fi—"

The boy shook his head and threw his arms around his father, hugging him again. "I love you. I'll always love you, daddy." Neal was really moved by Nicky and he started tearing up when Nicky kissed his hair and held onto him tighter.

"I love you, too, Nicky," he whispered. "I've loved you since the moment I first held you in my arms."

Peter watched Nicky and Neal alongside Mozzie. Nicky showed him the bracelet on the way home from school and he knew Neal would like it. He liked anything Nicky did. That's what makes Neal a great father, in Peter's opinion. Neal never shut Nicky down or told him to put the stuff away. He'd wear that bracelet until he couldn't read the letters on the beads anymore because he's rather sentimental about family—family he loves. Nicky giggled at something Neal said and Neal was smiling when he pulled back to look at his son. Peter noticed that tears were glistening on Neal's cheeks. He wasn't proud to just be Neal's husband, he realized as he watched the two. He was proud to be Neal's husband and Nicky's poppa. With Neal, they could easily raise a family together. Neal's a very compassionate man and an amazing father. It made Peter smile. After all that his lover had been through, Neal pulled through and still made an effort to be a good parent. Peter just wished Neal would realize _good_ was an understatement.

•◊•

"Falling asleep?" Peter whispered, stroking Neal's lips with his thumb. The younger man opened his eyes enough to look at Peter. "I've, unfortunately, got to take you over to El's in a little bit, hon."

Neal smiled. "One night won't kill us," he whispered sleepily. "I'll see you in the morning. You'll be my husband—and I yours. We'll get married twice and then we'll be heading out for the honeymoon."

Peter leaned over to kiss Neal's forehead. "It feels strange to lie in bed without you even when you're in the apartment," he admitted. "Lying here without you in the house is going to feel…empty."

The younger man inhaled sharply as he shifted Nicky off of his chest and onto the mattress. "You've got our baby here to keep you company," he said with a soft smile. Peter loved the trust he saw in Neal's eyes. Under certain circumstances, Neal might not have allowed him to get close to Nicky because of what'd been done to him. He'd snapped at Elizabeth for just looking at Nicky once. For Neal to willingly leave Nicky in their bed with Peter… That was a large, important step in their relationship. He _trusts_ Peter with his baby.

"We'll cuddle, but he's no you," Peter teased. "You fit against me perfectly, angel. He's so small."

Neal made a quiet giggling sound. "He's not so small anymore, Peter. I kept him in bed with me when he was a few months old. God. _That_ was when he was small." Peter realized that Neal was remembering when Nicky was just a baby. He rested his hand on Neal's stomach, smiling softly at his lover. "I was always afraid I'd crush him in my sleep. It scared the shit out of me so many times that I'd wake up in a panic and feel for him."

"Do you feel confident about your parenting skills?" Peter asked quietly. Neal only shrugged. "Do you feel confident enough to raise a…a baby with…me?"

The younger man smiled and it definitely touched his eyes. "With you, I can do anything." He made sure Nicky was positioned comfortably before twisting to crawl on top of Peter. Peter held him, kissing Neal's hair. "I think I'm so…pessimistic about my parenting skills because I didn't learn how to be a good parent from _my_ parents. I was alone and he's my first baby. It was…scary." Peter rubbed Neal's back, listening to Neal. "I always worried that he'd grow up to resent me for…for being me—for being gay. I didn't know how to show him that I'm gay, but I'm just like everybody else." He sighed sadly. "I always thought he'd get grossed out because I love men. He…caught me after a bad breakup when he was seven and he asked me why I'm gay."

"That had to be a hard question to answer," Peter said sympathetically.

"It was. How do you tell a seven year old that you're _born_ this way and actually make him understand?" He looked up at Peter. "It was rough and he heard stories about…gay fathers molesting and abusing their kids. He never asked me about it directly, but he…was afraid of me for a little while."

Peter's lips parted. He found that hard to believe considering how close Neal and Nicky were now. "Now that he's a little older, he…understands you better?"

Neal nodded, kissing Peter's chest. "He sees me as his daddy and as a person capable of falling in love with whoever I want. When you and I got together, he accepted you because of the way you treated me." Peter was curious about that. Neal never mentioned that Nicky had been aware of what his other relationships before Peter were like. "I had a boyfriend who tried to…to make me…you know." He was getting slightly embarrassed and Peter lifted his hand to caress the back of Neal's neck. "He brought all these really inappropriate 'toys' over—I told him there was no way I'd ever use them well before this—and tried to use them on me. It terrified me and Nicky saw the aftermath of it. He saw me fall apart and shove that guy out of the apartment."

"You never told me that before," Peter whispered.

"I want you to know how much I value our relationship," Neal responded immediately. "I've never been treated like a human being with feelings. It was all about my body and you know I hate that." Peter did know. He made sure Neal knew he was very, _very_ physically appealing, but he made sure Neal also knew that he loves him for so many reasons aside from his appearance. "You're… Peter, you're the only man I saw myself with in the future. I could see us with a family—and I still can."

That really touched Peter. Neal still had some secrets, but he was still opening up to him. He brought things up when they were relevant and it made Peter realize how lucky he was to have won Neal's affections. Neal's relationships really sucked and he could've easily quit looking for a lover. As they always told each other, their meeting was chance and it changed them entirely. Peter felt true happiness and love while Neal felt like he could finally put his trust in someone else, putting his heart on his sleeve. Neal made himself vulnerable once he'd let Peter in, but he was stronger now. He wasn't hiding from anyone now. He didn't have to pretend he was okay with things that really weren't okay because he trusts Peter. Neal didn't have to pretend to be someone or something he's not. With Peter, Neal allowed himself to break down, which always makes him feel weak, but he couldn't live with himself if he had to hide his feelings from Peter—good and bad. He allowed himself to cry, to laugh, to smile, to get angry… He allowed himself to _feel_ connected to another person—connected enough to share himself.

"I'm never going to leave you," Peter whispered. "I'm going to be here for you. I'm going to go to sleep with you in my arms whether we've made love or not and I'm going to wake up with you in my arms. I'm going to kiss you and hug you so you know I love you." Neal closed his eyes, listening to Peter intently because this was really, really meaningful. "I'm going to try to make you smile and laugh as much as I can, Neal. I want to give you a good life, angel, because you've worked so damn hard to get to where you are now. You're a special agent for the FBI, the father of a sweet boy, the best friend of a lunatic and criminal, a big brother to someone half your age that you'd never met before the moment he dropped by, and the love of my life."

Neal kissed him slowly, drawing it out for as long as he could manage. When they parted, Neal was smiling. "I'm never going to make you leave," he said quietly, staring into Peter's eyes. "Never."

They'd considered making love before Peter had to take Neal over to El's house, but they didn't think it was right the night before their wedding. They had the rest of their lives to spend together.

Neal made sure Nicky was covered up well before the two men left the apartment. Peter suggested that Neal take their marriage license with him because he was afraid of losing it. The younger man willingly took it, chuckling as he tucked it into his overnight bag. They made their way down to the first floor and Peter stopped. Neal came to a stop a moment later, turning to look up at him. "I love you." Peter was just smiling at Neal now. "The next time I see you, you'll be my husband within a very short time."

"I can't wait," Neal whispered, stepping closer to hug Peter. The older man slid his arms around Neal, holding him close. "I really can't wait." Butterflies were fluttering in Neal's stomach as he held Peter and Peter held him. He was committing himself to this relationship and it didn't even scare him. He wasn't afraid of what would come in their future. He knew good things would come and Peter would be there. He wasn't afraid of Peter abusing him because they've had plenty of arguments to prove that Peter was level-headed for the most part. He never once hit Neal.

Peter kissed Neal's forehead, whispering, "Neither can I." He knew what he was asking of Neal and he was proud of Neal on so many levels. Neal might not have wanted to get married because it would mean he was stuck and locked into it, but Peter knew now that this is something Neal really wants. Neal could have run away or pushed Peter away because he was too afraid to give himself to someone, to devote himself to one person.

Neal was willing to bring Peter into his home two years ago and they'd lived together since, raising Nicky together. Peter laughed lightly at the fact that Neal domesticated him very well. He would do some vacuuming and other cleaning as well as cooking, which is something he wasn't into doing. Elizabeth used to do all of that because she knew he sucked at it. With Neal, he put in the extra effort. Neal taught him how to cook things he and Nicky liked and Peter brought some of his own foods into their cookbook. It was all really nice.

The two of them headed out to the car and hopped in, Neal tossing the overnight bag between his feet on the floor. "You'll make sure to bring the rings, right?" he teased, grinning at Peter as he started up the car.

"Smartass," Peter muttered. Neal giggled, reaching over to rub Peter's thigh. Peter took his hand, intertwining their fingers. "I won't forget them," he promised. "I can't make you my Mister Neal George Burke without first giving you the ring that will bind you to me." Neal was quiet and Peter was nervous for a few moments, wondering if he just sounded really lame or controlling. He risked a glance in Neal's direction and saw the soft smile on his face. "What?"

"I love your sentimentality," he whispered. Peter's face heated up a bit. He felt extremely lame and maybe he was trying harder than— "I mean it," Neal added. "You're possessive of me in the sweetest of ways."

Peter drove them to El's house, holding Neal's hand all the while. They sang quietly to the music playing on the radio together and Peter loved how Neal laughed lightly when Peter couldn't hit a note right. They pulled up in front of the house and the two were quiet for a few moments. "I'm going to miss you," Peter whispered.

Neal unbuckled and leaned towards the older man, pecking his cheek. "I'll text you until we're finally on our way to the courthouse, babe." Peter gave him a small smile, gripping Neal's chin gently enough to guide their lips together.

They weren't sure how long they spent kissing each other, but they were both breathless when they pulled away. Both of their hearts were pounding excitedly. In less than twenty-four hours, they'd be husbands. "Love you, sweet angel of mine," Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Love you, Superman." They smiled at each other and Neal pecked Peter's lips again just as Elizabeth opened the door and stood in the threshold with her arms over her chest. "She's going to castrate one or both of us if I don't go in there," he said, giggling.

Peter grinned. "You promise you'll text me?"

Neal nodded. "Text me when you get home and we'll stay up as long as we can." Peter chuckled, leaning closer to stroke Neal's hair and kiss him lazily.

The younger man grabbed his overnight bag and opened the car door. Peter just smiled at him when Neal turned around. They didn't need words at the moment. It was enough to see the happiness in the other's eyes. Neal nodded, shutting the door. Peter waited for Neal to get up to the house and wave at him before driving off.

"It's about time you got here," El said exasperatedly. "I was beginning to think he was _never_ dropping you off."

Neal laughed as she ushered him into the house. Diana was sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. They were watching a movie Neal didn't recognize. "Hey, Caffrey."

"Di," he greeted.

El took Neal's bag from him and asked him to get comfortable, so he seated himself on the couch beside Diana. "Feeling the cold feet yet?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Nope. I'm still damn excited to get married." She chuckled and patted his leg lightly.

Elizabeth came back to tell him that his things were set up in their guestroom. She gently shoved Neal's leg and he got the hint, scooting over to let her sit beside Diana. She curled up against Diana, but grabbed Neal's hand to hold it on her leg. He was sitting stiffly beside Elizabeth. The two of them were cuddling and it made him wish he and Peter could cuddle. "Want to curl up with me?" El asked innocently.

"Nah. It's all right," he said with a small smile. She raised an eyebrow, challenging him. He really _hated_ when she did that because there was no room for objection. She scooted forward on the couch, still curled up against Diana, but with room behind her for Neal to scoot in. He laid behind Elizabeth on his side, resting a hand on her hip. She smiled at him, laying her head on Diana's thigh.

Peter texted him half an hour later. "_How are things going?"_

He smiled to himself, answering, "Good. Watching a movie. You?"

A few moments later, he got another message. "_Turn Wi-Fi on and check snapchat._"

Neal did just that and grinned when he looked at the picture Peter sent him. It was a darkened picture of him curled up with Nicky on their bed. "Are you on your phone?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Peter's using snapchat with me. Want to take a selfie?"

She giggled and scooted closer to him. He held the phone up and even Diana ducked into it, sticking her tongue out. He took the picture and sent it to Peter. "He'll appreciate that," Diana teased. She lifted her hand, stroking Elizabeth's hair slowly. Neal felt awkward, like he was intruding on their intimacy. He'd be irritated if someone were sitting in his position while Peter was stroking his hair.

"I'm, uh, gonna call it a night, ladies."

They made him put his phone down until the movie was over and then they allowed him to head up to bed. Elizabeth didn't let him go up without a hug and peck on the cheek. Diana only said 'good night' and headed into her room. As soon as he got upstairs, he texted Peter to ask if he was still awake. "_Almost asleep, angel. I'll stay up though._"

Neal smiled. "Sleep. Imagine I'm right there."

He rolled over to lie on his stomach, setting his phone on the pillow. He'd get into his sleep clothes once he said good night to Peter. "_Send me a picture of you before I do?_"

The younger man giggled, rolling to lie on his back. He held the phone above himself, smiling at the camera. He captioned it with, "Send me one back."

Peter did moments later. He looked like he was extremely tired, but he also looked happy. "_For my lover,_" it said.

Neal sent him a text message saying, "I love you, Peter, so much. I'll see you in the morning. Good night, babe."

It took a little bit longer, but that just showed him how tired Peter was. When his phone buzzed, he chuckled. "_See you in the morning, hubby. Good night, my angel. Sweet dreams._"

He set his phone down, quickly got up to change into his sweatpants and undershirt, and turned the light behind him off before nestling into the pillows that smelled nothing like home or Peter. He was so used to sleeping with Peter that he actually didn't know how to sleep without him. Even if neither of them held the other, they felt each other's presence in bed. This was just empty and he didn't like it.

Neal hugged his pillow, closing his eyes. He pretended Peter's arm was slung over his waist, rubbing his stomach slowly, and that Peter's chest as against his back. He thanked God that this was only meant to last a single night because he wasn't sure what he'd do if he had to sleep without Peter longer than that.

Fortunately, they'd never really be able to sleep alone after tomorrow—not that they could manage to sleep alone as it was, but he liked to think that they'd die if they didn't cuddle after they were married. It made him smile and he knew Peter would've laughed at the thought if he'd expressed it aloud. It was funny to them both because they felt the truth in it. He loved that he realized how honest his need for Peter spooning him was because he'd _never_ wanted a man to sleep with him like this before. He'd have been grateful to get them out of his bed so he could have it all to himself. Peter changed that—changed him—and he wasn't going to complain.


	57. Chapter 57

**A/N: There was a sex scene after the first part that I edited out. It's included in the Archive of Our Own version if you're interested.**

"Dear, God. I feel like a train wreck." Mozzie glanced at Peter as he was fixing Nicky's suit. Peter turned around and Mozzie wasn't sure what he was complaining about. It didn't look like rocket science. "Neal does bowties so much better than I do."

Mozzie laughed one short hearty laugh. "Suit, Neal won't care about the bowtie. I'm fairly certain he'll have other things on his mind when he sees you." Peter wasn't sure of that was meant to be an innuendo, so he ignored it. Instead, he stood in front of the full length mirror between the bedroom and sitting area, fiddling with the bowtie even though it looked fine. "I get the feeling we have some cold feet," Mozzie deadpanned, smiling at Nicky once the boy looked good. His little suit was just adorable and Mozzie loved it.

Peter shook his head. "No. I just want to look good. He's a god when he stands beside me and I know I'll never be on his level, but—"

"Peter," Mozzie said firmly, straightening up. "Neal's been with you for two years as of _today_ and he's marrying you _twice_ today." Peter nodded, his face flushing. "I'm fairly certain he appreciates your appearance as much as you appreciate his." He went to get the wedding rings from the nightstand in Peter and Neal's bedroom, patting Peter on the back as he passed him. "He's not as self-absorbed as you make him seem, mon frère's husband."

Peter's eyes widened as he turned towards Mozzie. "I know he isn't self-absorbed. I'm just saying. Moz, he's gorgeous." He sounded miserable as he turned back to the mirror to look himself over. "He could win the front page of several magazines and awards for being so gorgeous. I'm just kind of his background."

Mozzie put the wedding rings in Nicky's hand, whispering something to make the boy giggle. Peter didn't see the smack coming, but he grunted in response to it nonetheless. Mozzie smacked the back of his head, waiting for the look of disbelief. "He would've wanted me to knock some sense into you."

"Anything else Neal wants?"

"He wants you to stop fussing with the bowtie and get ready to head down to the courthouse so he can marry you." He rushed around to make sure they were all dressed and ready to go as Peter rolled his eyes. "Did you two write vows?"

"No. We planned them already, but didn't tell each other what they were." Mozzie gave him a curious look. "Neal wanted the vows to be impromptu if need be depending on how we feel when we're standing in front of each other. He didn't want a script is what he told me—at least for the first ceremony. We did write something together for the family ceremony that we both seemed to be happy with."

Mozzie laughed. "Sounds like him."

The three of them headed downstairs. They hopped into the Taurus and Peter drove them down to the courthouse. They needed to wait for Neal and Elizabeth to arrive before they could head inside and the waiting was making Peter anxious. He hasn't spoken to Neal since last night and he was eager to be face to face with his lover once again. He wanted to see the way Neal's eyes looked as they lit up, how his lips curved into a soft smile, and he wanted to feel Neal's fingers intertwined with his. In short, he was craving Neal intensely. He'd made it through the night and now he wanted Neal more than anything. He'd give up breathing if it meant Neal was with him.

Elizabeth's car rolled past them and parked directly in front of the Taurus. Peter's heart felt like it was going to erupt in his chest as he waited for Neal to step out. As soon as the passenger seat door flew open, his heart leapt into his throat. Neal came out in his white fedora and suit looking as gorgeous as always. He was smiling at them and Peter scrambled to get out. Neal waited for him on the sidewalk and the two of them stood in front of each other as soon as Peter was close enough. The older man stroked Neal's cheek slowly, whispering, "Good morning."

"Good morning," Neal replied, grinning. He glanced down when Nicky barreled into him and laughed, combing his fingers through Nicky's hair. Elizabeth joined them and smiled, proud of dressing Neal very well in her opinion. She asked about the bracelet he was wearing and she teared up a bit when Neal explained that Nicky made it for him. "Ready?" Neal breathed.

"I've never been more ready than I am now," Peter said quietly.

Neal held Peter and Nicky's hands in his as the five of them made their way into the courthouse. They had to wait for a wedding in progress to come to a close before it was their turn and excitement radiated off of them all. "Neal and Peter?" the justice of the peace asked, making sure he had the right couple.

"Yes, sir," they both said happily.

The justice smiled and nodded, gesturing for them to enter the chambers and stand in front of him facing each other. Elizabeth stood beside Mozzie behind Neal, her hands on Nicky's shoulders. Peter was smiling at Neal, who looked eager beyond words. "We are gathered here this lovely morning to join Neal and Peter in a ceremony of love," the justice said quietly. "Are you, Neal, here of your own free will, and do you intend to marry Peter?"

"Yes," he whispered, beaming at his lover. "I am and I do."

"Are you, Peter, here of your own free will, and do you intend to marry Neal?"

"I am and I do," Peter replied softly.

The justice nodded, satisfied with their declarations. "I understand you two have shortened vows you've written yourselves."

Neal nodded at Peter. They'd decided Peter would go first—a joke about Peter being older than him. "Neal George Caffrey," he whispered, taking Neal's right hand in his left. "I want to spend the rest of my life at your side, protecting and loving you the way you deserve. I will cherish you and love you more and more with each passing day as we laugh and cry together. I promise to stand faithfully beside you as your husband as long as you'll have me." He squeezed Neal's hand, his heart fluttering at the way Neal smiled. Neal's eyes were watering, but he was definitely happy.

He lifted his left hand to rub his eyes before saying his own vows. "Peter Michael Burke," he said, taking Peter's right hand with his left. "I promise I will treasure, trust, love, and respect you for eternity," he whispered. "I will devote myself to only you, pledging my body, heart, and soul to you. I will love you deeply and more than the day before as we spend every day together." He breathed shakily, blinking his tears away. "I promise I'll never leave your side as long as you'll have me."

Peter wanted nothing more than to kiss Neal right there in that moment. Neal meant every word, as did Peter, and they both felt it. Peter tore his eyes away from Neal for a moment to look at their son. "Nicky," he whispered. The little boy darted forward, standing beside their joined hands. He held the rings up for his fathers, grinning. They'd discussed this beforehand and both agreed to it, so Peter slid Neal's engagement ring off and placed it in Nicky's hand, picking up the silver ring he'd give to Neal. "I give this to you as a promise that I am forever yours," Peter whispered, separating their hands entirely before taking Neal's left hand to slide the ring onto his ring finger.

Neal gently held Peter's left hand as he slid the matching engagement ring off and set it in his son's hand. He took the second silver ring from his son's palm and whispered, "I give this to you as a promise that I am forever yours," repeating Peter's words as he slid the ring onto Peter's ring finger.

They joined hands again after Neal gave the justice their marriage license. They were unable to tear their eyes away from each other as the justice asked Elizabeth and Mozzie to sign their names on the license, subsequently signing his own name to legalize the license. His voice boomed with authority as he said, "In front of these witnesses, the couple has declared their intention to join their lives in marriage—and we now accept them as husband and husband." It sounded awkward to all of them, but Peter and Neal didn't give a damn in that moment.

Peter's left hand immediately flew up to caress the back of Neal's neck, his right resting on Neal's left hip while both of Neal's hands ended up on Peter's chest as they kissed for the very first time as husbands. Nicky stared at his father in awe as Neal cried tears of joy. He knew his father was happier than he's ever been and he appreciated Peter more for making his daddy happy.

When the two men parted, Elizabeth and Mozzie were surprised to see both of them crying as they beamed at each other.

The justice congratulated them and handed their marriage license to Neal before they all made their way out for the next couple to enter. In the hall, they all exchanged hugs. Elizabeth was crying and Mozzie was holding himself together fairly well until he hugged Neal, then he just held on tightly to his little brother. "What do you two do next?"

Neal looked at the marriage license and laughed. "Moz, you signed your real name."

Mozzie nodded. "It's an official and legal representation of your marriage. Dante Haversham didn't seem appropriate—so Theodore Winters made a onetime appearance."

Peter's eyebrows rose to his hairline. He assumed Mozzie's name was false, but he'd also considered it may have been a nickname. Mozzie was nowhere close to Theodore Winters, but he appreciated the sentiment.

They talked as they made their way out of the courthouse, Peter and Neal's hands intertwined all the while. "I'm going to take Neal home and we'll wait for his social security card to come in since it's _supposedly_ on its way and then we'll head up to the DMV to have his driver's license updated." He smiled at his husband, noticing how flushed Neal's skin was. "Then maybe we can celebrate a little before the family ceremony this evening."

Elizabeth and Mozzie took the hint, offering to take Nicky out to lunch while the couple went home for a bit. Nicky hugged his daddy and poppa, telling them both he loved them and that he'd see them soon. The couple waited for the other car to drive off before getting into the Taurus together, where they sat quietly for a few moments. "Jesus," Neal whispered, glancing at Peter with a broadened smile on his lips. "You're my husband."

"And you're my husband," Peter said, awed. "I'm going to take you home and curl up with you in bed, holding onto you for dear life."

Neal chuckled. "Peter, don't pretend we aren't going to make love as soon as we get in the apartment," he said.

Peter sighed in relief. "I didn't want to assume anything," he teased.

"We just got married!" Neal cried happily. "Damn right you're fucking me the moment we fall into bed together!"

The older man laughed, leaning towards Neal to kiss him. His eyes flashed when they parted and he saw it reflect in Neal's eyes. "Then let's get home and in bed," Peter whispered huskily.

•◊•

Peter stood by the arch, waiting for his lover to come out with his father. Jon was excited because Neal asked him personally to hand him off to his son. He knew Neal's father wasn't exactly the ideal choice, but he still felt that it was an honor.

Inside the small house, Jon was holding Neal's hand until they were all ready to go. "How did things go this morning?"

Neal smiled. "Very well. The wedding was quick and simple and then we went home to celebrate until my social security card came in, then he took me up to the DMV so I could get a new driver's license with my married name."

Jon squeezed Neal's hand, softly smiling at his son. He'd never be the son-in-law because he felt like so much more than that. Cara's husband wasn't as close to Jon as Neal was and Cara's husband was around much longer than Neal ever was. "You know what?" Neal gave him a questioning look. He laughed lightly, leaning forward to kiss Neal's forehead. "I love that you're happy, Neal. You've earned it."

"Thanks, dad," he whispered. Nicky was standing on his other side, leaning against his daddy. Neal's free hand was stroking his son's hair slowly and he couldn't help grinning at his baby.

Elizabeth came into the house in a whirlwind, absolutely breathless. "Okay, boys. We're ready when you are." She looked teary as she smiled at Neal. She was so happy for him. After all of the things he'd been through, this was meant to be. Peter and Neal were meant to be.

Elizabeth pecked Neal's cheek before heading back out into the yard. She took her place beside the bridesmaids, winking at Peter. They were all dressed casually in shades of blue and the couple had matching blue shirts. Peter watched the doorway as light instrumental music the two of them selected was playing. Hannah and Ellen opened the doors, walking out with Nicky. He was holding both wedding rings once again that he'd give to his fathers.

Peter waited as their mothers came straight down the path leading to the arch. He smiled at them both until he looked beyond them and saw his husband with his father. James was kind of pissed off with Neal for choosing Jon instead of him, but he understood that Jon was more of a father to him.

Nicky went to stand with Peter while Ellen and Hannah took their place beside James off to the side so he wasn't standing alone. Alex and June were standing together a little ways away from James. Neither of them liked him very much for reasons they didn't understand. They assumed it was because he'd left Neal when Neal was so young and it seemed plausible.

Diana, Jones, Bruce, Michael, and Reese stood off behind Peter as his groomsmen—and Diana. Elizabeth, Tara, and Rebecca stood off to the side of where Neal would be. Mozzie was standing at the head of the group between where Neal and Peter would stand to exchange their vows. He was able to wed them under his own power, but he'd let Neal do it 'legally and with certainty that no one would get arrested for fraud.'

Jon brought Neal towards Peter, all three of them smiling. Jon had tears in his eyes as he held Neal's arm and guided him towards his boy. As soon as they neared Peter, Jon let go of Neal and turned to hug the younger man, whispering, "Welcome to the family, son."

Neal laughed lightly, squeezing Jon. When they parted, Jon took Neal's hand and then grasped Peter's, placing Neal's hand in Peter's. Neal stepped into his place, standing beside Peter. Jon retreated to stand beside his wife, holding her while kissing her hair affectionately. Mozzie smiled at the couple before him. "I welcome our friends and family as we witness the binding of two of our beloveds—Neal née Caffrey and Peter Burke." He clasped his hands together, glancing at his best friend. "Neal, do you willingly take Peter as your lawfully wedded husband?"

For the second time that day, Neal beamed at Peter, whispering, "I do."

Mozzie nodded, turning to face Peter. "Peter, do you willingly take Neal as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Peter said softly, smiling at his husband.

"You can exchange your vows and rings," Mozzie prompted, nodding at Nicky.

Peter, as he did earlier in the day, spoke first, taking the silver ring from their son. "I Peter Michael Burke take you Neal George Caffrey to be my husband, my partner in life, and my one true love." He held Neal's hand, stroking his skin with his thumb. "I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad regardless of the obstacles we may face _together._" He breathed audibly, his smile still soft as he slid the ring onto Neal's hand once again. "I give you my hand, my heart, and my love from this day forward for as long as we both shall live."

Neal blinked back tears. He felt like the novelty of their wedding would've ended during their private ceremony, but this struck him as much as it did in the morning. He took Peter's ring from his son's hand, laughing lightly before giving Peter a shy smile. "I Neal George Caffrey take you Peter Michael Burke to be my husband, my partner in life, and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before." He felt the absolute truth in his words strike him and it just felt so right to say them to Peter in front of their friends and family. "I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad regardless of the obstacles we may face together." He held Peter's left hand and tentatively slid the ring onto his finger. "I give you my hand, my heart, and my love from this day forward for as long as we both shall live."

Mozzie smiled at them, nodding. "I now pronounce you husband and husband," he said affectionately. "You may now kiss your husband—again." That elicited a small chuckle from the entire group. Everyone knew they'd gotten married earlier in the day and no one seemed to be against it. After all, they were getting married a second time in front of them all.

This time, their kiss was tender and slow. Peter slid his right hand behind Neal, pulling him close while his other hand cradled Neal's head. Neal's arms loosely wrapped around Peter's neck and he gave himself over to the kiss entirely. As soon as they heard Elizabeth, Hannah, and Tara crying, they pulled away and laughed quietly, pressing their foreheads together. "Thank you for marrying me, Neal—twice."

Neal pecked his lips, closing his eyes for a moment. "I will always say 'I do' to you, Peter."

The outside area transformed into quite the party scene after the wedding. There were flowers galore and tables were placed around the yard with candles and wine glasses. Peter led Neal and Nicky to their table where they could sit together as a family. Elizabeth, Diana, Bruce, and Mozzie sat at another table and James, Jon, Hannah, Ellen, and June sat at the third. Tara, Rebecca, and Alex sat by themselves, giggling to each other as they spoke quietly.

There were wine bottles placed on each table and Neal took the liberty of filling his and Peter's glasses. "Can I try some of your drink, dad?" Nicky asked innocently.

Peter chuckled and Neal smiled wryly. "A _little._" He tentatively gave Nicky the glass, keeping one hand on it to take it away as soon as Nicky had enough. When Neal set his glass back down onto the table, Nicky made a sour expression. Neal laughed, rubbing Nicky's back. "Don't like it?"

"It tastes weird."

He leaned closer to his son, kissing his hair. "That's all right, baby. This is an adult drink."

A grand wedding cake was rolled out into the yard and Peter and Neal rose together, hand in hand. Peter led him to the cake, smiling as they both gripped the large knife together. Neal laughed brilliantly and it nearly made Peter's heart stop. They cut through the cake together while several pictures were snapped of them and then the cake was served alongside dishes of fruits.

After things settled down and they were all relaxing as they ate with quiet conversation, the clinking of a glass gathered all of their attention. Peter and Neal stood together once again. The younger man smiled up at his husband as Peter spoke. "I'm toasting all of you—our dear friends and family. Neal and I are more than grateful to have all of you in our lives and you've all certainly made today special for us." He looked at Neal, smiling softly. "I'm glad I've had the chance to add to my family," he said, nodding at Neal, Nicky, and Ellen. "As well as new friends who we believe are close enough to be considered part of our family." He raised his glass towards the remainder of the crowd. "Thank all of you for being part of a moment Neal and I will treasure for the rest of our lives." He and Neal raised their glasses to their family and friends. "To our family," they said together, collectively thanking everyone. Everyone took a drink and the couple sat down, grinning.

Bruce was standing a moment later, facing Neal and Peter's table with a bright smile on his face. "I'd like to make a toast to our grooms," he said, lifting his glass from the table. He cleared his throat. "Peter and I have been very good friends since our early days of Quantico. Back then, he was quite the daredevil—leaping buildings in a single bound because he had the stamina." Neal chuckled, watching his husband's face. "I look at him now and I see how much he's grown. Peter, you've changed a great deal and I can tell you right now that you've changed for the better, my friend. Seeing you with your husband has made me realize how lacking in love you were all of those years at Quantico." He grinned and shifted his gaze to Neal. "Neal, you've changed my dear friend and I know you've made him as happy as he makes you. You've made him a better man—a mature man, too. You're a wonderful influence on him and I'm proud of him for finally finding the one he wants to settle down with." He raised his glass into the air and concluded with, "To the rest of your lives, my friends. May you both love each other for the rest of your lives as you do right this moment."

Everyone raised their glasses and took a drink when Bruce did. Peter slid his arm around Neal's shoulders, rubbing his thumb over the soft fabric of Neal's shirt sleeve. Elizabeth was the next to stand, rubbing her eyes. "Boys, you both deserve this. You both deserve to know how true love feels and I know you've found it every time I look at you both." She flexed her fingers on the stem of her glass. "There will always be difficult times in your relationship, things you'll stumble over, but I've known you both long enough to know you can work together to fix any problem you encounter." She raised her glass, laughing as she cried. "To your everlasting love and the true strength of your relationship, sweethearts. I know you'll be together until the end." They all toasted to that, taking another small sip of their wine.

Bruce rubbed Elizabeth's back when she sat down and she appreciated the gesture. Next, Mozzie tentatively rose from his seat. "Mon frère," he began, nodding his head. Neal smiled. "I've seen you in almost every possible situation you could ever experience—good and bad. You've grown since I first met you and I can see the man you've always strived to be. I see the fantastic father you are and the faithful husband you'll be. Suit has tamed you and helped you through things I couldn't possibly imagine helping you cope with." He turned his attention towards Peter then, nodding at him. "Suit, I can't thank you enough for making Neal happy. I resented you at first because I didn't want him to fall head over heels for you and wind up with a broken heart." Peter squeezed Neal's shoulder and Neal leaned closer to Peter. "I can look back on that and see how wrong I was about you. You've been an idiot here and there, but you've never once hurt Neal in a way I would deem reason enough for murdering you in your sleep." Everyone but Peter laughed at that. Peter paled, gripping Neal's shoulder a little tighter. To relax him, Neal rested a hand on his thigh. "To your future," he said, lifting his glass. "I trust you with him, Peter. From what I've witnessed of your relationship, I know you'll both be all right in the end." They took a third sip and Neal nuzzled the side of Peter's face.

Jon was the last one to stand then, smiling affectionately at the couple. "Neal, I'm grateful to whatever force of nature created you." Neal flushed immediately, chuckling. "You've been nothing but wonderful to my boy and I know you'll never treat him otherwise. You're a wonderful, young man and I've grown to love you as my own son." He ducked his head for a moment, his own face flushing. "I can't express how much Peter needed you in his life before he even knew it, Neal, and I'm glad you're here now. I know you're here to stay." Neal beamed at the man he considered his father, his heart warming at the welcoming feeling. "To your future as well, boys. The only pursuit in your future is continued love and partnership and that's all I could ever ask for my son."

As soon as the toasts were over and they'd all had their share of wine, Elizabeth decided to unveil her gigantic screen that everyone but Peter assumed was a backdrop for decoration. Peter smiled as she started up a video with some of the music Peter suggested. The songs were on the CD he'd given Neal several months ago and Neal immediately realized that. The instrumentals playing were quiet as images of Peter and Neal appeared on the screen. They were pictures they'd taken themselves as well as pictures others had taken of them. Neal's eyes watered when he saw a picture of himself holding Nicky. Peter hadn't been there to share that moment, but they were sharing Nicky now and Nicky meant as much to Peter as he does to Neal. There were plenty of pictures from their small vacations over the summer with Nicky and several of Neal and Nicky that Mozzie had taken pre-Peter along with some Peter took of the two. Neal laughed when a picture he'd taken of Peter sleeping with Nicky on his chest came up.

They watched the photo montage and Peter's eyes flickered back and forth between the screen and his husband, watching the awe in Neal's eyes. He thought he'd surprise Neal by setting this up with Elizabeth and he was glad Neal liked it so far. The last few pictures were of Neal and Peter at the beach kissing and hugging each other in front of a sunset and the final picture was one Mozzie had taken. It was an innocent picture of the couple laying in bed together, cuddling closely while they slept. As soon as the video ended, Neal kissed Peter, earning them a few catcalls from their guests. He thanked Peter, pulling him close enough to hug him while they were still seated.

Not too long after, Peter stood as an instrumental for _I Wanna Kiss You All Over_ began. He held his hand out towards Neal, smiling affectionately as Neal took it, rising from his seat as well. Peter led him a little ways away from the table where they could dance together to a song they both loved and felt passionate about each other with.

Neal's arms circled Peter's neck and he leaned against Peter, playing with Peter's hair as he closed his eyes. Peter's arms wound around Neal's midsection and he slowly led their dance, holding onto Neal as tightly and comfortably as he could manage. They both quietly sang the song to each other, managing to kiss parts of their necks or faces every now and then. "I'm so happy," Neal whispered.

"I'm glad to hear that, angel," Peter murmured, fanning his fingers out over the small of Neal's back. "This is the life you should have, Neal. You should be happy and know how much I love you," he whispered. Neal smiled, loving Peter's voice more and more with each word that came out of his mouth. "I love you more than my own life, angel, and I'd give anything to keep you this happy forever."

Their guests coupled up and began dancing as well while the married couple continued whispering to each other until the song was over. They held onto each other, sighing contentedly as they parted. Neal turned to see Jon standing off to the side, waiting patiently. He immediately knew Jon was going to dance with him and he never loved this man more. Peter kissed Neal before heading back to his seat for a drink. An instrumental for _The Way You Look Tonight_ began to play as Jon took Peter's place, holding Neal against him. "I love you, Neal, and I love that you love my son," he whispered, rubbing Neal's back. "I'll kill him if he ever does anything to ruin your marriage because you're more of a son to me than anyone else could ever _dream_ of being." Neal laughed, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. "You're a Burke now, Neal, and I'm proud to call you my son." The younger man buried his face into the crook of Jon's neck, allowing a few tears to fall even as he tried to blink them back.

Jon kept rubbing his back slowly, turning them at a relaxed pace. "Thank you for making me feel like family," Neal whispered, his voice thick with gratitude and tears. "I've never had this before and it means _the world_ to me." He nuzzled his face against Jon's neck, breathing shakily. "I've never known how it felt to have an actual family until I met Peter—until I met all of you. Thank you, dad, for welcoming me so graciously into your family."

Jon kissed Neal's temple, smiling. "There's no need to thank me," he said quietly. "You came into my son's life and treat him with respect, give him your faith, and love him with all that you are. You're all I've ever wanted him to have in life, Neal, so thank _you._"

The two men hugged each other while Neal cried against Jon's neck. He was immensely overwhelmed by all of the love and happiness. This was such an experience for him and it thrilled him more than it terrified him. _This_ was his life. He _is_ Neal Burke and all of these people are his family.

The last several dances were between Neal and Ellen, Peter and Hannah, Neal and Hannah, Peter and Ellen, June and Neal, June and Peter, Neal and Nicky, Peter and Nicky, Neal and Elizabeth, Peter and Elizabeth, Neal and Tara, Peter and Tara, and Neal and Rebecca.

By the time they'd all finished dancing, they were exhausted. Peter was packing up his and Neal's things so they could head out for their honeymoon while Neal socialized a bit.

In a matter of minutes, the entire party had moved to the Taurus and they were all telling Peter and Neal to have fun over the next two days. Neal knelt in front of his son, holding Nicky's sides. "Poppa and I are leaving for a couple days, baby, but I promise we'll be back soon. Uncle Moz, Uncle Mike, and Auntie El will be spending time with you until we're back."

Nicky grinned at his father, messing with Neal's hair to make Neal laugh. He hugged his father, whispering, "Go be happy, daddy." Neal's heart warmed considerably and he didn't want to let go of Nicky for even a moment. "You and poppa need to be happy and I want you to be happy."

Neal pulled back and kissed Nicky's hair, forehead, and nose. "I love you, Nick. We both do." He smiled at his son, adding quietly, "And we'll both be very happy when we come home. Poppa's going to make our honeymoon great." He winked at his son and Nicky giggled. The boy had no idea what his father meant, but he didn't care because he knew his poppa would have time alone with his daddy to make them both happy.

Peter said his goodbyes to Nicky and then the rest of his family, Neal doing the same. As soon as they were finished, they climbed into the Taurus together. Their family waved at them until they couldn't see each other anymore and Neal sighed, laughing. Peter glanced over at him, loving the way Neal looked when he laughed, even in the darkness. "Honey, I love you," he said, reaching over to stroke Neal's hair.

"I love you," Neal said immediately. "I'll love you forever."

The older man chuckled. "Forever is what we'll have together," he whispered, "and we're going to start forever by enjoying our honeymoon before we have to get back to work and our normal routine."

Neal closed his eyes, his smile never faltering. Of all the times he thought he was truly happy, _this_ was the truest of them all. _Nothing_ could beat the way his heart felt now that he and Peter were bound together through marriage. He has a husband and he is a husband. All of the pain, sadness, and worry could fade away into the background for a little while. He wanted to drag his emotional high out for as long as he could. "Damn right," he murmured.


	58. Chapter 58

Neal sat down at the small table outside of the beach house he and Peter would be occupying for two days. He loved it and Peter knew it. Peter followed him, setting two wine glasses down on the table alongside the bottle of Château Margaux he'd gotten for Neal for their first Christmas together. He popped the bottle open with Neal watching and smiled at his young lover. "It's funny how you knew I'd save it for this," Neal said quietly, laughing lightly. "I really need to be more subtle when I give you references as ideas for gifts."

Peter grinned as he poured the wine into their glasses. He gave Neal one of the two before taking his seat. "All you said was that you wanted some very fine wine for a very special occasion," he said, meeting Neal's eyes. "I found wine I thought you'd appreciate and I assumed _this_ could be considered a very special occasion."

"Mm," he said as he took a sip of the wine, closing his eyes. "You were very optimistic."

The older man smiled softly at his husband. "Yes, well, I had a feeling you'd be interested in me for a little while."

Neal chuckled. "Gut feeling?" he asked upon opening his eyes. Peter laughed. "FBI's most potent weapon—the gut of Peter Burke."

"Smartass." He shifted his seat closer to Neal's and Neal took the liberty of propping his legs up on Peter's thighs. The younger man was smirking as Peter gave him a wry smile. "Somebody's looking for a little punishment, I see," he teased. He stroked Neal's legs slowly, sipping his wine. "Damn. This is good."

They spent a little while sitting at the table, talking quietly, before they'd finished their glasses of wine. It was after three in the morning by this point and Neal asked Peter to take a walk with him, which he accepted without hesitation. They walked hand in hand through the sand, listening to the waves as they crashed against the land. "Can I ask you something?" Neal whispered, breaking their comfortable silence.

"Of course."

Neal rubbed his thumb over Peter's fingers gently, looking down at the sand. He paused for a moment, bringing Peter to a stop with him. "Just out of curiosity, what made you want to settle down with me? I'm the only guy you've been with and there's plenty of other fish in the sea." Peter gave him a soft smile as he noticed Neal panicking a bit. "I mean, I'm not trying to say I'm ungrateful. I'm _beyond_ grateful to have you. I just…I…"

"When I look at you, I see a man who accepts his flaws, his faults, and strives to live with them. I see a man who's been damaged through neglect with a heart broken by men who never deserved to have his love." Neal's lips parted as he stared at Peter. "I see a man who loves with all that he is and offers all that he has." He moved closer to Neal, resting one hand between Neal's neck and shoulder. "I love you because you're brilliant, thoughtful, and passionate. You're a man who knows when he's been beaten, but still comes out of the battle strong." Neal gave him a small smile. "You've made it through so much, Neal. I don't think I could make it through everything you did. I'm proud of you and I'm proud to be with you. I'm going to love introducing you as my husband, Neal." He kissed Neal's forehead, whispering, "I want to settle down with you and start a life with you because you're everything I've ever wanted in a lover. You open yourself up to me, laugh and cry with me, and you've given yourself to me in ways I never could have dreamt of asking you if I knew you didn't love me as much as I love you. As soon as you gave me all of yourself and let me into your life and your heart, I knew there would never be another man."

Instead of responding, Neal threw himself against Peter, hugging him tightly. He closed his eyes and breathed in the masculine scent of his husband. His own heart swelled with love and pride. He never looked at himself like that until now because Peter pointed it out to him. Peter rested his chin on Neal's shoulder, sighing contentedly, knowing he'd just made Neal really happy. They were both quiet for quite some time and Peter was more than happy to just hold onto his husband, rubbing his cheek against Neal's hair. Peter's eyes were closed as well, his hands rubbing Neal's back slowly. He paused when he felt his shoulder getting wet. "I can't tell you how much I love you," Neal said hoarsely. "I love you so damn much, Peter. I'm so thankful to have _you_ and your love."

"Neal, you'll always have my love—and me. I love you just as much, angel," he whispered. "I love when you're happy. I love being the one to make you happy."

The younger man pulled back abruptly, rubbing his face. Peter lifted his left hand to wipe Neal's tears away gently. "I've never been this happy before. I've got someone who loves me even though I'm pretty much a massive mess." He laughed at himself lightly. "I see all of the bad things about myself and then you remind me there's some good in me, too."

Peter kissed Neal's cheek. "There's a lot of good in you. You're wonderful, Neal. I couldn't find a more suitable man to call my husband even if I tried." Neal's eyes glistened with his tears as he stared at Peter with the most affectionate smile Peter's ever seen. "And just so you know, I'm more lucky to have you than you are to have me," he whispered with a small grin. "You could've won me over with a smile. It took effort to make you trust and love me."

"I thought I was pretty easy," Neal deadpanned. Peter kissed his forehead, chuckling. "I was actually playing hard to get with you?"

"Sometimes. You've _never_ been easy. You're a strong, hardened man and I had to earn your love and trust. It was well worth it in the end.

Neal rested his left hand on Peter's chest just above his heart. "You were worth it," he whispered. "I was so scared to let you in. You seemed too good to be true and I thought I'd really fuck it up with you." Peter stroked Neal's hair slowly, watching his lover's face. "I thought you'd run away from me in disgust and spread a bunch of lies about me being a whore initially."

"Fortunately, I'm not that kind of man," Peter said quietly. "I love you. I'll always regret meeting you _after_ you suffered through your past relationships. I wish I'd met you before them so I could've spared you of the heartbreak."

"I know. Peter, it would've been a dream to have met you back then. None of them were anything like you. You're just… Is it wrong for me to call you beautiful?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "You're my husband. Call me beautiful all you like."

Neal felt like that was too feminine a pet name for his husband, but he decided it was all right for now. It wouldn't stick like any of the others. "You're a beautiful man. You have a beautiful heart. If I met you before any of the other guys, I never would've left your side out of sheer gratitude that I met an angel." He rubbed Peter's chest slowly. "I will never leave you because of that gratitude. You're my guardian angel, love. I know you'll keep me safe."

"I'll always do my best to," the older man said, leaning forward to kiss Neal. Their lips moved together lazily but passionately. Neal knew Peter would do everything he could for him. He'd run to the ends of the earth, break down any barrier, and kill anyone who stood in his way. No one ever would've fought for Neal like that and they both knew it. "I'm your Superman," Peter whispered against the corner of Neal's mouth, feeling the grin spread across Neal's face.

•◊•

Peter woke up the following morning to his alarm blaring. He was spooning behind his husband and groaned, opening his eyes enough to find his phone on the nightstand in front of Neal. He leaned forward, moving Neal enough to startle him out of his sleep. "Peter?"

Neal reached forward and grabbed the phone, handing it to Peter. He turned it off and set it behind him, sighing. Peter kissed the back of Neal's neck, closing his eyes. "I'm going back to sleep if you are," he whispered.

"Let me roll over," Neal said quietly. Peter realized that he'd squished them both onto one side of the bed and Neal was practically ready to fall off. He scooted back enough to give Neal room to turn over and move away from the edge. "There we go." He gave his husband a goofy grin and Peter chuckled. "I'll stay in bed with you. Not sure if I'll go back to sleep or not, but I'm not moving."

Peter nodded, he shifted himself enough so that he could rest his head on Neal's chest and the younger man chuckled quietly, stroking Peter's hair. "Keeping you right here," Peter murmured, slinging an arm over Neal's midsection. Neal laughed and Peter couldn't help smiling at the sound of it.

"Bit possessive this morning, I see," Neal teased.

"It's not every morning that I'll wake up as a newlywed with my husband."

Neal ran his fingers up and down Peter's bare back slowly, smiling at the older man. "Now you'll wake up every morning with your husband," he whispered. Peter kissed Neal's chest, sighing contentedly. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he couldn't get enough of Neal and Neal was reason enough to stay awake.

The two stayed in bed for half an hour before finally getting up. Peter watched Neal dress himself, thoroughly turned on by the lingerie he put on before pulling his sweatpants on. "I'm curious. How does that feel on you?"

"Strange," he said, laughing. "But I kind of like it." Peter smiled at him when he turned around. He was dressed in one of his Yankees shirts and jeans and Neal seemed inclined to go shirtless even though there was a slight chill. Neal looked amused as he said, "Kind of like _you._"

Peter's eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise, but then he gave Neal a wry grin. "Oh, really?" Neal tried to move, but he wasn't fast enough. Peter grabbed him and spun him around so that Neal's back was against his chest and he began assaulting Neal by tickling him. "Brat," he muttered while Neal laughed and doubled over. He tried to shake Peter off to no avail and they eventually ended up on the bed again. Peter finally loosened his grip and Neal rolled off of the bed, standing with a broad grin on his face. Peter just laid on his back and smiled up at Neal. He loved the innocent happiness in Neal's eyes. It was _almost_ as if he hadn't gone through so much pain. "I love you."

Neal chuckled, getting on his hands and knees on the bed to kiss Peter. Peter reached up to stroke the side of Neal's face while they kissed. It was slow and hot until Peter's stomach growled. Neal pulled away laughing. "Love you, hungry man." The older man rolled his eyes as Neal got off of the bed. He wandered off towards the kitchen and called out, "What do you want for breakfast?"

"You choose between your favorites: waffles or pancakes." The younger man threw a smile over his shoulder as Peter finally sat up. He felt Peter's eyes on him and it made him feel all tingly inside. Even though he was distracted by thoughts of Peter, he managed to rummage through their things to find the makings for waffles. He was thoroughly proud of himself for finding that in the midst of all of Peter's things he'd packed in a panic for Neal. "God." Neal turned and gave him a questioning look. "You have the best ass I've ever seen."

The younger man laughed. "Hm. Well, you do fuck it on occasion. I'd certainly hope it was good." As he went back into the kitchen, he subtly wiggled his hips to shake his ass for Peter.

Neal was grinning as he heard Peter get up from the bed. Peter was behind him in mere seconds, his hands sliding over Neal's hips possessively, his lips pressing soft kisses against Neal's neck, and his rock hard cock pressing against Neal's ass to let him know just how interested he was. "I could take you right back to the bedroom and make sweet waffles with you."

He burst into laughter, startling Peter. "Unless we've suddenly been given that ability, I'm fairly certain we can't make _waffles_ in the bedroom."

Peter looked taken aback when Neal turned in his arms. He simply stared at Neal in silence for a few moments. "I seriously said that?" Neal chuckled, nodding. Peter's face flushed almost immediately thereafter. "Wow. That was… Just wow." He shook his head, sliding his hands around to rest on Neal's lower back. "Of all the things to say to seduce you into bed with me, that has to be the worst."

Neal gave him an affectionate smile before pecking his lips. "Nah. You can't beat: 'Honey, I've got a problem. Can you come here?' That _one_ time scared the hell out of me and I rushed to the bedroom to find you naked and hard as hell."

If it were possible, Peter's face flushed an even deeper shade of red. "Yeah. I'll admit that that wasn't one of the best things to say to you either." He kissed Neal, sighing. "Well, I suppose making waffles is preferable to giving you a heart attack."

"I love you," Neal said sweetly, his eyes lighting up. "You're so adorable." Peter's stomach growled again and Neal put his hands on him. "Got my baby in there?" he teased.

Peter raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh, yes. I've got the most attractive baby of all time inside of me because _you_ knocked me up." Neal giggled and Peter lifted a hand to cradle the back of Neal's head, bringing him in for another kiss. "If only I could carry your baby."

Neal looked stunned for a moment. "You'd want that?"

"Told you I'd do anything for you," he whispered. "Too bad it's pretty much impossible unless you know something about my body that I don't." He winked and Neal chuckled. "We'll pretend I've got your baby. Sound good?"

"Sure," Neal said laughingly. "Tell me in a few months if we're having a boy or girl?"

Peter sighed happily, hugging Neal. "I like this," he whispered. "I like being alone with you. You're so easy to joke around with and it feels good." Neal smiled, rubbing Peter's back. Peter closed his eyes, inhaling his husband's scent. He loved how Neal always had this vanilla aroma about him. It was really mesmerizing. "I like that you're happy," he whispered.

Neal squeezed Peter. "You make me happy, babe." This all felt so…_normal_ to him. He only dreamt of feeling this good. He didn't feel like anything was wrong with him and he could forget about everything that'd been done to him. He felt like a normal person who's lived a normal life and just got married to the love of their life. His heart pounded in his chest and he knew Peter felt it.

They went out onto the deck to sit in the comfy chairs with their plates of waffles a little later. Neal pulled his legs up on the chair and listened to the waves crash against the shore while he ate. "You ever wonder what it'd be like if we lived somewhere like this?" Peter asked unprecedentedly. His head was cocked to the side a bit as he focused on his husband who shrugged.

"I've lived with June since I turned seventeen. I think it'd feel strange to leave her." He chuckled to himself. "She's been with me through a lot, too. She dealt with my cranky ass through Nicky's early years and she's really been lenient on my payments."

Peter nodded. "Would you…want to move out someday? Get our own place and make new memories?" Neal wondered why he was asking this all of a sudden. He never said anything about being unhappy in the apartment. Hell, it's where they've lived together for the last two years.

Neal sat up straighter. "Can I ask why you're curious?" Peter looked away for a moment, which piqued Neal's interest. "Peter?"

"Would you hate me if I told you I was looking into buying us a house?"

Neal thought about it for a minute and considered their options. The apartment was nice, but it was limited in room space and privacy. It'd been enough for him and Nicky with the occasional visit from Mozzie over the years, but everything was different now. He was housing his brother downstairs and even Mozzie had a room down there now in case he ever stopped by. Nicky had a room of his own, but he'd probably grow out of it really soon. The bedroom he shared with Peter was nice, but it would also be nicer if they had privacy. He'd like to make love with his husband without worrying that his son would randomly come out to go to the bathroom or tell them he had a bad dream.

Now that they were married, they were considering expanding their family. He wasn't sure how many kids they were planning on having in the end, but one more was certain. He honestly liked the idea of raising a baby with Peter and he really wanted Nicky to have a sibling. He remembered how lonely it was when he was growing up. If he had the power to give Nicky a little brother or sister, he'd have another baby in a second. They were definitely planning on adopting together. They were waiting to hear back from the adoption agency about the mothers Neal spoke to. They didn't want to wait and choose one baby out of a selection. Neal couldn't deal with that; he'd want to adopt all of them and become the next Angelina Jolie.

That being said, they would need more room for a new baby. The apartment was limited in that aspect and he'd already torn down a room to make Nicky's room. He wasn't sure what else he could possibly do to accommodate another baby. "I think it's a good idea," he said finally. Peter gave him a mildly relieved and surprised look. "We're talking about making a family together. We'll need more room and you and I will need _our own_ room—with a door."

"That makes sense," Peter admitted. "I thought it might be nice to have a place to call our own, but you're right. We will need more room for our family."

Neal smiled, setting his feet on the deck and his plate on the table before getting up and walking over to Peter's chair. He took Peter's plate and set it on the table beside his own and climbed onto Peter's lap. The older man's arms wound around his husband's waist and he returned the smile. Neal stroked the sides of Peter's face slowly. "Thank you so much," he whispered. "Thank you for loving me and my son. Thank you for making love to me and marrying me." He leaned forward and kissed Peter briefly. "Thank you for never leaving me when opportunities arose where you certainly could have left."

Peter's eyes watered. The look on his husband's face made his heart melt. "I'm yours forever, Neal," he whispered. "I'm more than happy to be your husband and Nicky's poppa. Those are two commitments I'll never regret—two commitments I will honor until my dying breath."

The older man kissed his husband tenderly, so grateful to be here with him. He could easily have lost Neal on several occasions and he knew he could've walked out on him several times as well. He just couldn't bear the thought of abandoning Neal. Those beautiful eyes and smiles and laughs would haunt him forever if he'd left Neal. "That means more to me than I can ever tell you, Peter."

•◊•

"We should play a game," Neal announced out of the blue. They'd finished dinner a little while ago and were now quietly watching a baseball game together. Peter glanced over at him, intrigued. Neal's mind was in the gutter for most of the day and he's been nervous. By this point, he shouldn't have been nervous, but he wanted to play a sex game with Peter. They'd never tried anything like that before, so he had no idea how Peter would feel about that.

"What kind of game?"

Neal looked shy all of a sudden and Peter's heart sped up. His expression made him look so cute in Peter's opinion. "Um, a game in the bedroom?"

Peter was surprised to hear that. He reached for the remote and turned the game off, turning to face Neal entirely. "I'm interested. What do you have in mind?"

"Would you be willing to blindfold me?"

The older man had to keep his expression schooled. He was extremely surprised now, but he didn't want to shut Neal down in any case. "Sure, honey."

Neal bit his lip, looking away for a moment. "Did you bring handcuffs?"

"Hon," he said gently, "I don't know if you're actually…into this idea." Neal met his eyes again and Peter saw the determination in them. He wondered if this was how Neal subconsciously wanted to move on from his past. It made sense to him, but it didn't at the same time. "If you're uncomfortable, we can just make love. You know I'm always up for that," he teased.

"I want to try it," Neal said adamantly. He got up and went into the bedroom to look through their things to see if he could find something to use as a blindfold and a substitute for handcuffs if they weren't packed. Peter tentatively followed his husband into the bedroom, standing in the doorway to watch him rummage through their bags. He held up two ties a moment later and looked at Peter. "Can we?"

Peter moved into the room and stood beside Neal, kissing his temple. "As long as you promise me you'll ask me to stop if you want or need me to." Neal nodded and gave Peter the ties while he stripped himself. Peter couldn't help watching him. His throat went dry when Neal was left only in his lacey lingerie. "Leave that on?" he asked tentatively. Neal looked up at him and nodded. Peter was willing to play with him. He wouldn't make love to Neal this way though. Even though Neal's seemed fine, he didn't want to push him. "Ready?" Neal gave him a small affectionate smile and turned around so Peter could blindfold him. The older man was worried about Neal, so he slowly put one of the ties around his husband's face, covering his eyes, and tied it behind his head loosely in case he wanted to take it off quickly. He held the second tie and gently grabbed Neal's wrist.

Neal flinched and Peter immediately froze. He turned around to face Peter and held his wrists out to Peter in front of himself. "Not behind me," he whispered. Peter believed this was good. He knew Neal would stop him if he was uncomfortable.

He tied Neal's wrists in front of him loosely and gently gripped his shoulders. "How ya doing, hon?"

"Good," Neal breathed. He lifted his hands to rest them on Peter's chest. "Are you planning on at least taking your shirt off?"

Peter laughed. "Anything for you." He took a step back and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. When he moved closer to Neal, he lifted Neal's hands and placed them on his bare chest. "Better?" Neal smirked and nodded. "What do you want to do next?"

Neal sighed. "Peter, do I have to give you _the talk?_ I thought this was self-explanatory."

The older man chuckled, leaning forward to kiss Neal. "Smartass. All right." He gently weaved his fingers through Neal's and led him towards the bed, helping him get onto it and get comfortable on his back. Neal wiggled around a bit until he felt good where he was. "Do you want me to talk to you during this or are you just trying this for sensations?" he asked curiously.

"I'd kind of prefer it if you talked to me."

"No problem, honey." He meant that. He knew if he were silent, Neal might get scared and forget who he was with. "How's this?" he asked, guiding Neal's bound hands up above Neal's head.

"I like it."

Peter smiled and moved to straddle Neal's waist. He stroked Neal's abdomen slowly, feeling Neal's erection beneath him. "I love you," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss Neal's jaw. He slid his hands up Neal's torso, gently playing with his nipples. He elicited a moan from his husband, eliciting a shiver subsequently. Peter carefully twisted his nipples. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Neal.

"Jesus Christ," Neal hissed, his hips canting against Peter. "Keep doing that," he pleaded. Peter raised an eyebrow and did as Neal asked. As far as he knew, Neal never did anything like this before.

He slid up Neal's body a bit, keeping his hands in place while he took his husband's lips and kissed him softly. He tweaked Neal's nipples a little harder, testing his limits, and was surprised when Neal moaned into his mouth in response. This was different and made him wonder what Neal was aiming for.

Peter couldn't think of much to say other than telling Neal he loves him, which he already knows, and asking him if particular things he's doing are all right. When he pulled away, he hummed near Neal's ear. It wasn't any song in particular. Neal knew it was him though. It was kind of like one of those times when he'd absentmindedly hum at home while he made breakfast when Neal was pretending to be asleep. He didn't do that often, but it was enough for Neal to decipher the sound as _him._

Neal's lips parted in a silent gasp. He kept watching Neal's face, knowing what to look for if Neal needed him to stop. "Hon—"

"I'm fine," he finally said breathlessly. "I'm not used to feeling like this. It's different—really good." Peter doubted that. He wondered why Neal was really doing this. "Are _you_ okay?"

Peter's brows furrowed. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"You're usually a lot more vocal in bed," he said quietly. "Tonight, you're just…quiet." Neal listened as Peter sighed and started whispering endearing comments about how beautiful Neal is and how much Peter loves him. "You don't believe me, do you?" Peter stopped and stared down at him without answering. "Take the blindfold off." He gently lifted Neal's head enough to pull the blindfold off and he met his husband's eyes as he blinked into focus. "You can look me in the eyes and know if I'm lying to you or not," he whispered.

"I wasn't accusing you of lying, Neal."

"You didn't have to." He lowered his arms and twisted to push himself up. "I knew this was a dumb idea. Sorry for fucking it up." He made Peter move and rolled off of the bed while Peter gaped at him. He undid the loose knot of the tie and freed his wrists, tossing the tie onto the floor. He grabbed his sweatpants and left the room in a whirlwind of tension.

Peter gave him a few seconds before following after him and startled when the bathroom door slammed. He felt really guilty now. Maybe he was wrong and Neal actually wanted to play in bed. He certainly didn't look terrified when he took the blindfold off. Swallowing hard, Peter went to the bathroom door and knocked on it gently. "Honey."

"Go away, Peter."

The older man sighed. "Can I come in?"

"No."

He closed his eyes, keeping his hand on the door. "I didn't mean to upset you, Neal." He heard water running and lifted his head, opening his eyes. "Are you getting in the shower?"

"No."

The water shut off a few seconds later and the door unlocked. Peter took a step back and Neal stormed out, brushing him off immediately. "Hey," Peter said gently, following him. "Hon, stop. Please."

Neal did. He abruptly stopped and spun to face his husband. Peter's lips parted when he realized Neal went into the bathroom to cry by himself. He'd been trying to wash his face so it didn't look like it, but it was really obvious. "I'm sorry."

Peter shook his head, stepping towards his husband. "No. You have nothing to be sorry for." He brushed Neal's hair back tentatively. "I really didn't mean to upset you. _I'm_ sorry."

"Peter, I actually felt good like that," he whispered. "I was scared to ask you, but it felt good. I _liked_ it and I wasn't afraid at all." He lifted his left hand to rub his face in frustration. "I know things are difficult because of me, but I trusted you and I wanted to try something new with you." Peter nodded slowly, frowning. He really wished he'd believed Neal. "I was able to get lost in the moment with you and it was nice. I knew your hands and your lips. I was…excited."

"I'm really sorry, honey. I just…"

Neal shook his head. "No. You can't be sorry either. I understand why you didn't believe me. Doesn't make me happy, but I understand." He took a step forward to hug Peter, sighing. "Let's just stick to normal stuff. That works for us."

Peter rubbed Neal's back slowly. "Are you mad at me for ruining that?"

"No. It's all right. I'm over it already." He kissed Peter's chest, closing his eyes. "It isn't worth getting upset over. I love you—you love me. That's all I need. We can be as vanilla as ever and I'll still be happy with you."

"I—"

"No, Peter." He backed up to look at Peter's face. "C'mon. No angst, please." Peter gave him a confused look. "This is our _honeymoon._ I want to make the most of it. Last night was good and vanilla. We learned something about ourselves tonight and I know what we can or can't do." He reached out to take Peter's hands. "Now, I don't care about the playing or stuff like that. Let's go in there and be _us._" He gave Peter a small smile, tugging on his hands gently. "Take me in there and make sweet love to me—loud and passionate."

Peter chuckled, taking advantage of the statement. He pulled Neal into his arms bridal style, startling his husband at first. "I carried you in like this last night and I'm gonna do it again tonight—and tomorrow night."

Neal grinned at him. "_That's_ my hubby," he whispered, wrapping his arms around Peter's neck. Peter kissed him sweetly and carried him towards the bedroom. He agreed with Neal's thoughts about making the most of their honeymoon. They were alone together without drama or work. This was their time to be themselves and relax. He'd make damn sure they made the most of their honeymoon. Loving Neal into the mattress repeatedly between tonight and the following night was his prerogative. They'd have all of tomorrow and then they'd have to leave the next morning to head home. He'd focus entirely on his husband and not worry about anything for the moment. All Neal wanted was for them to be happy together and he was more than willing to do whatever it took to keep his husband happy.


	59. Chapter 59

Neal nuzzled his face against Peter's after settling himself between the older man's legs. The water around them was warm and they were surrounded with bubbles. Neal played with the bubbles while Peter kissed the sensitive spot behind his ear that he _loved_ having kissed. "I'm fairly certain this is the first time I've gotten up to take a bath at four in the morning," Peter said, chuckling.

"Well, you suggested a shower. I thought this might be a little more relaxing after all of the lovemaking." Peter smiled, playing with Neal's hair, spiking it up here and there. "Besides, I'm admittedly really sore."

Peter kissed the back of Neal's head. "You're the one who kept asking me to love you," Peter said, chuckling. "Hell, I was on the brink of death after the second round and we ended up going a third—and that was just _this morning._ I would be shocked as hell if you _weren't_ sore."

Neal smiled faintly, closing his eyes as he let himself relax against his husband. "This is the first time in a long time that I've felt really good about sex," he said quietly. He slid his hand up and down Peter's thigh slowly. "It's almost as if someone flipped a light switch, Peter."

"What do you mean?"

The younger man opened his eyes to look straight ahead of him before looking down at their intertwined left hands. "You know how scared I was all the time, how reluctant I was." Peter nodded slowly. "I don't feel like that right now. I feel different and I can't really explain why. Maybe I'm just high on excitement because of the weddings."

Peter chuckled. "I like that you don't feel afraid with me now. I'm assuming that means you trust me a—"

"I've always trusted you," Neal interjected. "From day one, I've trusted you."

The older man smiled softly even though his husband wasn't looking at his face. He knew Neal put a great deal of trust in him early on. He trusted Peter enough to confide in him things he never wanted to tell anyone. "I'm happy to hear that," he whispered.

Neal sighed, turning his head to nuzzle Peter's gently. "I'm kind of disappointed that we have to go back home tomorrow morning," he said quietly. "It's been really nice to spend time with you like this. I mean, we stay up late together and do things like _this_ and they're things I never did with anyone else—that I could never dream of doing with anyone else." Peter kissed his hair. "Sitting in a bathtub with you is relaxing. We're in a bubble bath and I don't feel the need to clean up quickly and get out because I'm worried about what my baby is doing, if he's getting into trouble or staying out of it."

Peter chuckled. "Believe me when I say you'll be glad to be home tomorrow morning. I know you've missed Nicky because I've really missed him myself." He lifted a hand covered in bubbles to stroke Neal's throat. "I miss his little smile and how he goes to bed when we tuck him in. I really miss seeing that little ball of supernatural happiness."

Neal laughed. "He's so innocent. It isn't hard for him to be happy." Peter sobered up a bit, touching Neal's skin lightly, trailing over to his shoulder and down his arm slowly. "I think I've lived through him at times," he admitted. "All the happy birthdays I tried to give him, the Christmases I struggled to make good on, and everything else. They were things I was limited in. I wanted to give him everything my parents couldn't give me." He smiled to himself. "I know he liked when I used to rub his back or stroke his hair to get him to sleep. He felt closer to me and I felt closer to him. That was something I never had with my mom. I never had the kind of love I give my son."

"You do now," Peter whispered, leaning his head against the back of Neal's. "You have family who loves you now. They love you and would do anything to show you that, Neal."

The younger man knew that very well. Hannah and Jon were there to help him alongside Peter, Mozzie, and Nicky after everything with Craig happened and he truly appreciated the support. He only had Mozzie after Adler, but Mozzie hadn't known until many, many years later. "I have a spectacular husband who loves me enough to want me around twenty-four-seven, a son who looks up to me with respect and loves me, a brother with a heart of gold." His heart warmed the more he thought about this. "I have parents who care about me and want to help me through problems," he said, looking over his shoulder to glance at Peter with a small smile. "I have everything I've ever wanted to have in a family."

"You're always going to have this," Peter promised him. "Always."

They stayed in the bathtub a little while longer, getting out when the water started getting cold. They dried themselves and went back to their bed, immediately getting under the blanket together. Neal liked not having to worry about his son seeing him naked. He could strut around the beach house naked all he liked because he was alone with Peter. "Hey," Neal said after they'd gotten quiet. He rolled over to face Peter, looking at his husband's face to see if he was still awake.

"Mm?"

Neal pecked Peter's lips. "I know I thank you all the time," he whispered, "but thank you, Peter. Thank you for being my family." Peter smiled in the darkness, reaching over to stroke Neal's arm. "I don't thank you enough for becoming my family," he said quietly, touching Peter's fingers. "I know I might've been able to live with what Adler did to me, but I can admit that I don't think I would've made it without you after Craig and Garrett. I'm going to sound cliché when I say you're the reason I'm still alive, but I mean it."

"C'mere," Peter whispered, gently tugging on Neal's arm with his eyes closed. Neal scooted closer, but Peter groaned and ended up opening his eyes to pull Neal on top of him. "That's better." He rested one hand on Neal's back and the other stroked Neal's hair. "Honey, I don't entirely believe that, but I kind of do at the same time. I know you're strong underneath, and I think you could have made it without me. I'm going to sound like an ass when I say I don't think you would've tried to make it if you were alone." Neal closed his eyes. He knew he wouldn't have made it if he'd been alone. "Your terror is intense when it hits you. I'm not trying to sound condescending when I say I think you would've fallen apart a lot more often and struggled harder to try if I hadn't been there with you. Wow. That sounded a lot better in my head…."

"You're not an ass for telling me something I already know," Neal said quietly, smiling when Peter gently played with his hair. "If we weren't together, I would never have gotten the support and help I needed from you and your family. I'd probably have ended my life early on if I had to go through the aftermath of what—" He stopped dead midsentence.

Peter's brows furrowed. "Neal?"

"I wouldn't have made it through Adler after he kidnapped Nicky if you weren't in my life," he whispered. "If I did, I _know_ I'd never make it through Craig." Peter's arm held Neal against him tighter. "Craig left me extremely terrified, broken, and vulnerable. If you and your parents weren't there for me, I couldn't survive that on my own. What he did to me was worse than what Adler did. I could and did survive Adler on my own."

The older man rolled them over, startling Neal as he hovered above him. "Then I'm glad we're together," he whispered. "More so than usual." He kissed Neal softly, closing his eyes. Neal was overwhelmed with sensations just because of that kiss.

Neal could feel that Peter was tired. His hands were sluggishly moving over Neal's body and his lips weren't as coordinated as they normally were. Neal slipped his tongue out of his mouth and touched Peter's lips. He was surprised that Peter opened his mouth for him. Their tongues danced in Peter's mouth for a few moments before Neal broke off from the kiss. "No one could ever make me feel this good or this happy but you," he whispered. He stroked the sides of Peter's face and ended up stroking Peter's hair when the older man laid his head down on Neal's chest. "I love you, hubby."

"I love you, Neal," he murmured against his husband's chest, getting comfortable against him. He slung his leg over both of Neal's and his arm over Neal's torso. He kissed Neal's skin, sighing to himself. "God, do I love you…"

Neal smiled in the darkness, closing his eyes.

•◊•

Peter woke up in a daze and was surprised to find himself alone in bed. The beach house was rather quiet and he found that disconcerting as he blearily looked about the room and into the hallway, finding no signs of his husband as of yet. He looked at the clock and realized it was almost one in the afternoon.

He rolled over onto Neal's side of the bed to get off, dressing himself before leaving the bedroom. "Neal?" he called out quietly, walking through the hall towards the living room. He found no sign of Neal in the living room, but looked over at the kitchen to find toast in the toaster. He leaned over a bit to look out the door and found Neal sitting on the deck, holding his head in his hands while hunched over. That immediately worried him and he made his way over to the door. "Neal?"

The younger man sat up and turned to look at his husband, giving him a small smile. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he said as he got up, immediately moving to hug Peter. "How'd you sleep?"

Kissing Neal's hair, he murmured, "Like the dead. How about you? How come you're out here alone instead of in bed with me?"

"I needed to clear my head for a little while," Neal said quietly. Peter pulled back to give his husband a look of concern. "I had a nightmare, but I'm okay, love." He rested his hands on Peter's chest, rubbing his pectorals slowly. "To be honest, I don't even know why I had the nightmare. It wasn't like I went to sleep afraid or upset."

"Maybe you were really exhausted and your mind was exhausted with you," Peter suggested. Neal shrugged, sighing. Peter didn't want to pry, but Neal didn't look particularly happy at the moment. "Do you want to talk about it, angel?"

Neal glanced at him warily before nodding. "Yeah, I do, actually. Let me finish breakfast, then we can come out here together and eat." Peter was surprised by how sincerely Neal wanted to talk to him. He tried to keep to himself a little more, but he never felt like he _had_ to hide something from Peter. He led Peter back into the house and asked him to sit at the little island in the middle of the kitchen. Peter took his seat while Neal took care of the toast. "Three or four, babe?"

Peter's eyes betrayed him and focused on Neal's ass. It was only when Neal turned that he looked at his husband's face and realized Neal had asked a question. "Sorry. What?"

The younger man shook his head, giving his husband an affectionate smile. "Three or four pieces?"

"Oh. I'll take four." Neal nodded, getting more bread to put into the toaster. "Thanks, honey."

"You're always welcome, my love," Neal said quietly without turning to look at him. He was spreading strawberry jam on three of the pieces he'd be giving to Peter and Peter realized that. Peter never understood why Neal felt compelled to serve Peter first, but he never complained. It was why he liked surprising Neal occasionally by serving _him_ first.

Peter's eyes roamed over his husband's bare back for a few moments before landing on a scar he didn't remember seeing. His brows drew together as he tried to recall whether or not Neal explained that one to him. He knew most of Neal's scattered scars were from Keller, but he wasn't sure about this one. He knew for sure it wasn't one he'd left. No, there was only one scar he regretted leaving on Neal. It was such a stupid mistake that left its mark on his lover. He never really paid attention to Neal's scars. They never made him love Neal less. He didn't find them particularly interesting and he didn't want to hurt Neal's feelings by staring at him and asking a million questions Neal probably didn't feel like answering.

Neal turned around and set a plate down in front of Peter. That was when Peter actually looked at Neal. He always looked at his husband, but he never saw the scars he knew subconsciously were there. Neal had small scars on his throat and just below his jaw. Thinking about how he'd gotten those made Peter's heart ache. It was one of the many times he realized how lucky he was to have this man here and alive with him. "I love you," he said unprecedentedly.

"I love you, too," Neal said, smiling at him. "Very, very much." The last three pieces of toast were done a few minutes later and Neal finished them, setting one more on Peter's plate and taking two for himself. They headed out to the deck and sat on the stairs together, eating quietly for a few moments. Peter wondered why Neal never made himself as much as he made Peter. It made him worry that Neal might be in one of his unhealthy depressive episodes where he truly didn't want to eat. "I saw myself burning." Peter glanced at his husband, meeting his eyes. "I'm not sure why, but the fire was suffocating me."

Peter took a stab at it, wondering, "Have I been putting too much pressure on you?"

Neal gave him an incredulous look. "Um, no. Why would you even ask that? You're the sweetest man I know, Peter." The older man looked embarrassed to have even asked that question. "Peter, you haven't been pressuring me with sex. I can tell you that right now if that's what you're thinking. Everything I do in that bed with you is what _I_ want to do, not what you want me to do."

"I know," Peter said gently. "I never said I was commanding you in bed…"

"Because you aren't."

The two men stared at each other for a few moments in silence before Peter finally sighed and shook his head. "Have I been suffocating you with how close we've been?"

Neal looked stunned. "_No,_" he said firmly. "I like being close to you. I've never once said I wanted to be away from you because I couldn't handle being with you twenty-four-seven."

"Neal…"

"You're not suffocating me," he said adamantly.

Peter frowned. "You can tell me if I have been."

"I just said you're not!"

"But—"

Neal threw his hands up in exasperation, getting up and walking away to eat inside. "Leave me alone for a little while if that's what you think."

•◊•

"Are you still upset with me?" Peter asked as he crawled into bed with Neal later that night. Neal hadn't spoken to him much for the duration of the day. He asked Peter about dinner and then made it, putting a game on for Peter to watch while he went into the bedroom to eat alone and read quietly with the door shut. Neal didn't answer, but Peter knew he was awake. "Angel?"

He tentatively touched Neal's bare back, frowning. "No," Neal whispered, sighing. "I'm a little irritated, but I'm fine and so are we." Peter scooted closer to his husband, pulling him close. Neal held Peter's hand on his chest. "I can't explain my nightmares, but I know you're not the cause of them, Peter."

Peter nodded, kissing the back of Neal's neck. "I believe you, honey. I'm sorry for arguing with you about it." Neal sighed quietly and Peter intertwined their fingers. "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course," Neal said, his voice so quiet that Peter almost missed it.

"I don't like hurting you," Peter whispered. "I really don't."

Neal sighed again and turned over, jostling the bed a bit until he was able to face his husband. "I love you with all of my heart and soul. I didn't want to hide this from you, but I didn't realize I would upset you by telling you…" He closed his eyes for a moment. "I wanted to be upfront with you and I made a mess of things."

"That's not true," Peter said, stroking Neal's hip slowly. "I blew your honesty out of proportion. You did the right thing and I'm sorry that I didn't do the same."

The younger man gently pushed Peter onto his back before crawling on top of Peter, lying on his husband who didn't hesitate to hold him there. "Peter, can I ask you something stupid?"

Peter's brows furrowed. "Nothing you ask could be stupid. Ask me, angel."

Neal frowned. "Do you think there's a possibility that I'll go to hell when I die?" Peter's eyes widened and Neal was quick to expand. "Hear me out before freaking out," he pleaded. "I've been having nightmares about fire and burning chasms for quite some time. I dreamt of myself burning to death while hanging by the throat and by standing in the flames because I was unable to move. You'll probably think I'm crazy, but I think the fire and flames represent hell and I get the feeling this means I'm going to burn in hell when I'm dead."

"No," Peter said gently. "You're not a cruel man, Neal. You never have been." He stroked Neal's hair slowly, staring up at his lover's face. "You're my angel for a reason. Angels don't go to hell, honey."

"Dark angels do," Neal whispered.

Peter really didn't want to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn't discourage Neal's faith, but he hated how Neal always felt that God was punishing him in some fashion for reasons he couldn't even explain. "Do you think you're a dark angel?"

Neal lowered his eyes for a moment. "Yeah. Kind of."

"Why?"

He looked at Peter warily, biting his lip. He realized how stupid he sounded and wished he hadn't asked the question to begin with. "Peter, my father was a murderer and my mother is insane and heartless. He killed his superior officer and felt no remorse and my mother let Adler rape me continuously for about three years without feeling any remorse as well. What if the bad blood runs in my family? What if I've damned myself and Nicky?"

Peter forced Neal onto his side so he could sit up and get closer to Neal. "I don't believe that. You're nothing like either of them." He pressed his hand against Neal's chest, resting over his husband's heart. "You tried to kill yourself when you realized you were doing something very wrong. You'd rather end your life than torture or murder someone—even someone as bastardly as Vincent Adler." Neal frowned at his husband, hating that he was right. "Your mother let him rape you because, like you said, she's heartless and insane. You're a father with a son who's close to the age you'd been when Adler raped you and I know damn well you'd give your life for him before doing that to him or letting it happen to him." He kissed Neal fiercely for a moment. "You are nothing like your parents, Neal. Don't you dare compare yourself to them. You are a much better person than they could ever dream of being."

"Peter…"

The older man kissed his husband again. "No. God, Neal. You're a beautiful man inside and out. After everything Adler did to you, you couldn't go through with your initial plan to torture him. That makes you the better person."

Neal laughed mirthlessly. "Suicide makes me the better person," he said sarcastically.

"As I said to you a minute ago, you'd rather end your life before hurting someone else." He wanted to kiss Neal so hard, hard enough to leave him breathless. He truly hated when Neal tried to make himself sound like a terrible person because of his parents. "You easily could have killed Adler if you'd played the right cards, but you tried to drown yourself instead. You're not heartless. You care and you have morals."

"You're suggesting that I care about that fucker?" he cried in pained surprise.

Peter gaped at him. "No! No. I know you don't care about him." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Neal's shoulder. "Jesus Christ, Neal. I would never even try to convince myself that you care about that bastard. I'm saying you're a good person. It's one of those instances where you're unlikely to harm a fly, let alone another human being."

"I think you're wrong. I still wanted to torture him. I still want him dead. I'd kill him right now if I was given the opportunity."

"No, you wouldn't." Neal was about to challenge him, but he kept going, speaking above Neal. "You're a better man, Neal. You're not a murderer or a rapist or any kind of God damn criminal. You're an angel in disguise and I really fucking hate it when you put yourself down. I hate when you think you're some kind of evil." He could see tears glistening on Neal's cheeks, but he was determined to tell Neal exactly how he felt and how he perceived the man he loves with all that he is. "You could have been a cruel father after what your step-father—"

"Don't you dare call him that," Neal hissed while Peter was speaking.

"—did to you. You love Nicky more than you love yourself. You'd do anything to protect him. You'd give yourself to a man who scared the living hell out of you to save him. Adler wouldn't have done that. Adler would have left you for dead or he'd have kept raping you, Neal." He sighed shakily, feeling like he himself was on the verge of tears. "You let yourself suffer through another rape to protect _me._" Neal's entire expression shifted from anger to genuine sadness. "I would never have asked you to do that for me. I would have let him do whatever he wanted to me if it meant I could spare you of that, but _you_ willingly protected me with your own life. What kind of heartless son of a bitch would do that? Would someone as heartless as you think you are have done that for me?"

Neal was silent. He didn't want Peter to turn this around on him like this. He was revolted by himself whenever he thought about Craig because Peter had seen the aftermath of that firsthand. "No," he whispered.

"Angel, you have a heart full of so much love even though you barely had enough love and nurturing in your life prior to Mozzie, Nicky, and me. I knew how scared you were of that son of a bitch. If you didn't love me, you wouldn't have done that. You would have let him hurt me instead of you if you weren't in love with me."The younger man couldn't help but sob, leaning against Peter for support. Peter willingly gave it to him, holding him close. Neal's emotions were all over the spectrum now. He was thinking about what would have happened had he not protected Peter. "You are the perfect example of a sweetheart, Neal. He raped you because you love me—because you wanted to protect me. I never would've asked you to do that for me and I'll never forget that you did it anyway."

Peter really didn't like how much they'd been arguing today, but he felt that maybe Neal needed to vent as well as hear the truth. "I love you so much," Neal said brokenly. "I couldn't think about you like that. I couldn't bear the thought of him raping you. I've been through it. I'd do it again for you if it came to that." Peter rubbed Neal's back, tears sliding down his face to land on Neal's shoulder. "Peter, you're everything to me. You complete me. I'm so weak in this relationship, but saving you from that kind of pain was the least I could do to offer protection for you."

"You're an angel, Neal," he whispered. "You hurt yourself to protect me and you would've let yourself be hurt to protect your son. Your parents wouldn't have done either of those things for you. Your mother wouldn't do that for anyone. She'd let them hurt you without regret." He kissed Neal's throat, nearly breaking down entirely against his husband. "I regret letting you do that to yourself, but that's the man you are. You have a heart and your personality is beautiful. I will never doubt your love for me because of what you did for me that day."

Neal cried with Peter for a little while longer to vent and have his self-esteem inadvertently boosted before he eventually fell asleep, exhausted by his tears. Peter was silently crying as he stared at the love of his life. The man on his chest was an angel in human form. He would never ask anyone to give their lives or anything else up for him nor would he expect that. Neal allowed his rape because his love for Peter overwhelmed his sense of fear. His heart overrode his mind and Peter knew that. He knew Neal loved him because of that. If Neal hadn't been in love with him, he'd have let Craig take Peter away to hurt him in ways Neal's experienced prior to that.

He rubbed Neal's back, sniffling to himself. He needed to teach Neal to love himself someday and he'd work on that over time. He couldn't stand listening to Neal slander himself this way when absolutely none of what he'd said was true. Neal would give his life for those that he loves and Peter saw nothing evil in that.

By the time morning came around, Peter woke up before Neal and began packing their things to head home. So their final night hadn't been too spectacular, but he was able to make Neal see the kind of man he really is. Even as he packed Neal's clothing, he couldn't help thinking about how Neal sacrificed a lot for his son. Neal didn't have very fancy clothing because he couldn't afford it. He spent his money on Nicky and used the minimal amount on himself. If he weren't a father who loved his son so dearly, he'd probably be spending time away from his son without ever once doing something thoughtful for the little boy he'd contributed in making.

Neal stirred slowly on the bed and Peter glanced over at him, watching him stretch out with his eyes closed. He moaned as he rolled over and Peter smiled. His eyes barely opened and he returned Peter's smile. "Good morning."

Peter set the clothing down on the end of the bed, moving towards Neal to kiss his husband. "Good morning, angel." He sat down in front of Neal's stomach, planting one hand onto the mattress behind Neal. "How're you feeling?"

He slid a hand over Peter's thigh, rubbing it slowly. "Enlightened," he whispered, meeting Peter's eyes. "Thank you…for clearing things up for me when I was stuck in the fog."

"As your husband, it's my job," he teased. "I love you and I want you to know all the reasons I'm so willing and eager to spend my life with you." He moved the hand on the mattress and rubbed Neal's hip, sliding over Neal's ass slowly. "I think it's time for us to get a move on and get home. Don't you?"

"Probably gonna have an anxiety attack if I don't see or hear from Nicky in the next few hours, so yeah."

Peter chuckled and rose from the bed. Neal helped him clean up their things, packing the food, drinks, dishes, and glasses neatly while Peter rounded up all of their stray clothing. While he was bending down to grab a bag, Peter's hands ended up on his hips and Peter's groin was pressed against his ass. He smiled to himself, choosing to stay in place. "One pair of lingerie seems to be missing."

"That, my love, would be because I'm wearing it," he said affectionately. He could feel how hard Peter was and knew exactly what they would be doing before they finished packing. Needless to say, they ended up on the couch in a sweaty mess of limbs. Peter kissed Neal lazily, enjoying his husband's lips. He was glad to have made love to Neal one last time before leaving the beach house as much as he was happy that Neal was feeling better about himself than he'd felt prior to going to bed last night.

Neal fidgeted a bit beneath Peter, trying to get comfortable with Peter's length still inside of him. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, love. Still adjusting to, you know, doing this without a condom with you," he said quietly. "We were making love with condoms for two years before deciding to try bareback."

"God. I feel like we're in a porn video when you call it that."

"That's the actual terminology," Neal said, laughing.

Peter kissed Neal again, thrusting into him once for good measure, eliciting a soft moan from his husband. "You're my personal porn star," he whispered, "but I'm sincerely glad you're only mine."

Neal smiled, breathing heavily. "I'm always going to be yours. I've pretty much been yours since the very first time we met."

The older man chuckled. "I'd normally think it was wrong to claim that I own you, but…"

"Nah. You own me, love. You'll never give me up because I'm your most valuable possession."

Peter realized Neal was kidding about the 'valuable possession' thing, but he didn't realize how accurate that was. "Honey, you are my most valuable possession, if we're still in the staking our claims mood." Neal looked surprised and Peter kissed him again. "I'd never be able to let you go and watch you be happy with someone else."

Neal pushed himself up as much as he could manage, pecking Peter's lips. "Fortunately, I can tell you I'd never be able to be happy with someone else. There wouldn't even be a someone else if you and I split up for whatever reason… Which we won't, right?"

"Right," Peter whispered. "You're my husband. I'm willing to spend forever with you."

Peter gently thrust into his husband a few more times before they both decided they were either spent or sore for the moment. Peter pulled out of him and helped him up off of the couch, smiling affectionately at him. "Quite the gentleman," Neal teased, kissing Peter's knuckles. Peter raised an eyebrow and surprised Neal by wrapping his arms around Neal's waist, yanking him forward. His hands slid over Neal's ass and they were pressed up against each other. "I take that back," Neal said, chuckling.

They lazily kissed each other for a few moments before getting dressed. Peter watched Neal pull his lacey lingerie back on and felt himself get turned on again. "You like the lingerie more than your boxers now?"

"Hey, you jump my bones a lot more often when I'm wearing lingerie thank you do when I'm wearing boxers."

Peter smirked. "You look good," he said sincerely. "Really sexy."

Neal smiled, pulling a shirt out of their bags to throw on. He honestly didn't care whose shirt he grabbed, but he always loved wearing Peter's shirts. He grabbed his sweatpants and pulled them on, glancing at Peter as Peter dressed himself. "I never felt sexy in any of my other relationships," Neal said unprecedentedly. "I really like looking sexy for you though. I have this tingly feeling when you say that."

The older man grinned at his husband. "That's a good feeling," he said excitedly. "You're a very beautiful man and I try to remind you of that sometimes." Once they were dressed, Neal went over to Peter, hugging him. "You need to feel sexy once in a while at the very least," he whispered, kissing Neal's neck.

It took them twenty more minutes to pack all of their things and get them out to the car. "Do you think it's weird to leave the bed sheets on after we fucked on them?"

Peter laughed. "Someone will come by shortly after we're gone and clean them. They'll probably take the initiative and clean the couch while they're at it."

Neal grinned wryly. "They must really like the scent of sex to be able to stomach grabbing sheets with someone else's sperm and sweat on it."

"As long as they don't use it to make a baby genetically linked to either of us, I think they're fine."

Neal chuckled, getting in on the passenger side of the car. Peter smiled at him before turning the car on. "I'm really happy we got to spend some time alone even if we kinda argued a bit towards the end."

Peter reached over, taking Neal's hand while he backed out of their parking space. "I'm not willing to hold something so trivial against you. We wouldn't be in a functioning marriage if we didn't fight is how I look at it, so we're in a healthy relationship as far as I'm concerned."

"We are in a healthy relationship," Neal said quietly, squeezing Peter's hand. "We love each other, live together, argue, give support, and we're very physically intimate with each other. That's what I think anyway."

"You're absolutely right." Neal smiled at his husband, realizing for the thousandth plus time that he was very lucky to have won this man's heart over.

The drive back home wasn't very long since it wasn't too far away. As soon as they walked into the apartment, Nicky jumped off of Neal and Peter's bed, running over excitedly to tackle his fathers. "Daddy! Poppa!"

"Hey, Nicky," both men said, chuckling.

"Welcome home! I missed you!"

Peter picked Nicky up, smiling at the grinning boy. "We missed you, too, little guy." He kissed Nicky's forehead, then looked at Neal. He saw the gratitude and absolute love in his husband's eyes and knew that this is what Neal wanted. He wanted someone to love him and his son and he'd found that in Peter. "Hope you haven't been driving Uncle Mike or Uncle Mozzie crazy."

Nicky giggled, wrapping his arms around Peter's neck, leaning forward to hug him. "I was good. Uncle Mozzie let me sleep in your bed 'cause I missed you guys."

Neal rolled his eyes, heading over to the narrow hallway. He stood in the threshold, calling out, "Moz, we're home." In a matter of moments, the bathroom door flew open and Mozzie came out. He quickly moved towards Neal, hugging him tightly. It startled Neal at first, but then he relaxed into it. "Hey, Moz," he whispered affectionately.

"Welcome home, mon frère." He backed away from Neal, looking up at him then with a soft smile. "How was the honeymoon?"

Neal chuckled. "_Active._ Very active—we spent a lot of time together." Mozzie smirked, shaking his head. "How was my little brat?"

"Very good. He's a lot of fun when you aren't here." Neal raised an eyebrow. "You've got that daddy disapproval thing going on."

"I d o not," he said adamantly.

Peter laughed, pulling Neal into his arms now. He kissed Neal's jaw, rubbing Neal's stomach. "Not even home for five minutes and you two are already bickering."

Peter decided to start up an earlier dinner for them all, so Neal went to lie down on his bed for a few minutes. Nicky plopped down onto his stomach beside Neal, smiling lovingly at his father. "Hey, you," Neal said quietly, returning his son's smile. He rolled over to lie on his stomach beside Nicky.

"Did you and poppa have a good honeymoon?"

Neal laughed lightly. "Yeah. It was really good, Nicky, and I hope you have a great one once you're married, too." Nicky scooted closer to Neal until their arms were touching. He moved up a bit and Neal grinned, leaning over to bump his son's nose, eliciting a giggle from his son. "What'd you do while we were gone?"

"Played with Uncle Mozzie. Auntie El took me shopping for some new clothes."

Neal's brows furrowed. "What's wrong with the clothes you've got right now?"

Nicky shrugged. "They were getting kinda tight, daddy. And Auntie El bought me some really cool shirts! They have pictures and stuff on them and they're really awesome!" Neal felt guilty for not seeing something he definitely should've noticed. He was usually so good at keeping up with Nicky's growth. How'd he messed this up?

Nicky leapt from the bed and darted into his room to grab some of the shirts Elizabeth bought for him so he could show them off to Neal. Neal really liked them, but he felt like they cost quite a bit. He's been able to afford a little more since Peter came into his life and he was promoted from probationary agent to special agent. He hated asking Peter for money and he'd only done it once or twice when he was in a real pinch. Other than that, he preferred taking care of himself and his son through his own means. "You okay?" Neal startled out of his train of thought, looking up at his husband who'd come to stand beside the bed, looking at him in concern.

"Yeah," Neal breathed. Nicky was grinning while he folded his shirts back up to take them into his room to put into his dresser. As soon as Nicky was out of earshot, Neal sighed. "I need to pay El back. She did so much for me—for us—for our wedding. I can't let her pay for clothes for my son without paying her back."

Peter sat beside Neal, rubbing his back. "Hon, she loves Nick. She loves spoiling him. She probably did it because she's still stuck in that frame of mind where she wants a baby, but can't have one of her own." Neal sighed again and Peter rested his hand on Neal's lower back. "El doesn't spend money on people often, Neal. I've rarely seen her spend a ton of money on someone else unless they asked her about it. I highly doubt Nick asked her to buy him a bunch of stuff, so she must've offered or bribed him into going."

"That doesn't make me feel any less guilty," Neal muttered.

The older man smiled softly, leaning forward to kiss his husband's hair. "She'll kick your ass if you ask to pay her back. I can tell you that right now—I've experienced her wrath firsthand, hon."

"I'll still talk to her," he grumbled.

Dinner was quick and ended up being just the three of them and Mozzie since Michael was out with his girlfriend. Neal and Nicky curled up together on Neal and Peter's bed while Peter popped them some popcorn. It was pretty late by this point, but Neal hadn't seen his son in two days and all he wanted was to hold him close. Peter glanced back into the bedroom every now and then and the sight took his breath away each time. He truly loved this side of Neal. Neal was always sweet and affectionate with him, but there was just something about the way he was with Nicky that Peter found novelty in witnessing. It made him wish he'd met Neal almost twelve years ago—before Nicky was born. He'd have loved to be there to help Neal raise Nicky.

Neal held his son close while they watched _Aladdin_ together. He'd seen every Disney movie there was multiple times, but he'd never tire of watching them with his son. Neal thought that in no time at all, he wouldn't have this kind of bond with Nicky anymore. Nicky would grow up, get into a relationship, settle down, and become independent. It was all terrifying to think about for Neal because he always worried that Nicky would grow up to hate him. "Stop." Neal startled and looked down to find Nicky staring up at him. "You're thinking too loud," he teased, giggling.

"Mhm," Neal murmured, giving his son a wry smile. "Watch the movie, silly kid." He glanced over at his husband and was surprised by the tremendous affection he found there. He knew Peter loved him and that he loved Nicky, too, but he never realized just how much Peter loved them. It was something Neal treasured. Peter was treasured. Peter accepted the fact that he had a son early on without comment and he'd never once left since then, even as he dealt with Neal's struggles. Neal regretted every moment he'd been miserable or broken in Peter's presence, but he was so grateful to have someone who loves him as much as he loves them treat him with the same respect he gives them.

When Peter finally crawled back into bed with his family, he held the big bowl of popcorn between them all. Nicky had shifted around to lie back against his father, holding Neal's arm around his waist with one hand while eating popcorn with the other. Neal looked up at Peter, admiring the man who'd devoted himself to Neal entirely. Almost as if on cue, Peter met his gaze and smiled at him. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hi," Neal said just as quietly, grinning at his husband. Peter leaned down to kiss him slowly even though Nicky was right there. He didn't think Nick would mind if they kissed in front of him especially since he encouraged a lot of their interactions as it was.

The movie ended a short while later and Nicky was asleep atop his father, snoring lightly. Peter was lying on his side, facing Neal, stroking Neal's arm. "What are you thinking right now?" he asked.

Neal gave him a tired smile. "I'm thinking about this," he whispered, nodding towards his son. "My baby's growing up, I'm married, and he finally has another father. I'm always thrilled when he cuddles with me. I'm savoring each moment because I know that as soon as the teenage years hit he won't want to curl up with his old man anymore."

Peter would've rolled his eyes, but he heard the underlying sadness in Neal's voice. "Neal, I was still very close with my parents when I was a teenager and I'm going to encourage Nicky to do the same. You're his daddy. You've always done all that you could for him and I know what kind of toll it's taken on you."

"He'll probably think I smothered him all his life and he'll want his independence. I can't blame him because even I think I smothered him." He rubbed his son's back, sighing. "He hasn't made very many friends or asked to go on very many play dates. Trent is the first person he's had a sleepover with—here or at his place. I don't know if I'm at fault for his lack of a social life."

"You're not," Peter reassured him. "Does he look like he hates you?" Just as he said that, Nicky let out a quiet moan and shifted on his father, holding onto him tighter. Peter smiled at their son and then met Neal's eyes. "See? Even when he's asleep he loves you. You make him feel safe, secure, and loved, hon."

Neal nodded slowly, looking down at Nicky. "I was really pissed off after everything with Adler because of what he did to Nicky. I'm still really pissed off, but he looks fine." Peter knew there was something bothering Neal about that. "For the longest time, people thought _I_ looked fine. Inside, I was dying a little more each day, withering away, and struggling to keep my fears at bay. No one saw those things and I can't tell if he's going through that." He weaved his fingers through his son's hair. "It's been almost two years and I don't know if my own son is suffering emotionally. What kind of parent am I?"

"Honey," Peter started, resting his hand on Neal's shoulder, "I'm sure he's okay."

"You can't know that," Neal whispered. "Everybody thought I was okay. Nobody knew that I was always afraid Adler would show up. No one knew I had suicidal thoughts. Peter, I was alone in my mind even with people around me and no one fucking knew I was struggling to make it through the day."

Peter stroked Neal's hair, nodding slowly. "You're right. I wouldn't know, Neal. I'm sure he'd talk to you if you asked him about it. He was shaken after the whole ordeal." He sighed quietly. "I know you'll help him the way you would have wanted help. You're his father and you love him so much more than anyone could ever begin to imagine. He'll talk to you."

Neal nodded slowly. "I don't want him to feel alone," he said so quietly that Peter nearly hadn't heard him. He stared at his husband's face, frowning.

"He's not alone," Peter murmured, kissing Neal's ear. "He has an amazing daddy to guide him through any problem he has." Neal kept frowning, shifting his gaze from his husband to his son. Peter scooted closer to Neal, rubbing his leg against Neal's. "You aren't alone either," he whispered.

They fell asleep shortly thereafter with Peter reminding Neal constantly that Neal was a great father and that he shouldn't doubt his parenting skills because he'd done very well with Nicky. He argued that Nicky was a sweetheart who respected others and treated them fairly, which was something he made Neal realize _Neal_ instilled in Nicky.

All three of them were curled up together on the bed. Nicky laid between his fathers who had their arms over him. Peter's hand was resting on Neal's arm and he was slowly beginning to stir when he realized the sun was shining through the balcony's glass doors. He opened his eyes slowly, looking at his family in front of him. He smiled, listening to them breathe quietly. Nicky's face nestled into Neal's chest, his small hand was resting on his daddy's left side.

Peter slid his fingers up and down Neal's arm slowly. He startled a bit when Nicky yawned and rolled onto his back. He looked up at Peter sleepily, a small smile on his face. "Hi, poppa."

"Hey, Nick," he whispered, lifting his hand to brush Nicky's unruly hair back.

Nicky looked at his father's face and giggled. "Daddy drooled a little." Peter snickered, reaching over to wipe Neal's mouth. "Did daddy sleep okay, poppa?"

"I think so, buddy. He fell asleep pretty quickly."

Nicky nodded, looking relieved. That warmed Peter's heart. "Can you make me breakfast?" Nicky asked innocently. Peter couldn't help smiling. He'd gone to bed with his clothes on for once, something he wasn't exactly accustomed to since he and Neal usually slept together with skin to skin contact. Having Nicky in their bed for the night changed that though. Peter nodded and slid out of bed so Nicky could follow him after prying himself out of Neal's one-armed grip.

Peter went over to the refrigerator, opening it. "What do you want to eat, Nick?"

Nicky stood beside him, looking in. "Did daddy buy more waffles? He promised he would." Peter chuckled, closing the fridge to open the freezer. When he pulled the box of chocolate chip waffles out, Nicky's entire face lit up. "Yay!"

As he went about getting breakfast set up, he watched the little boy. He was trying to look for subtle signs of stress or depression and was having a hard time finding any. He hadn't been able to tell with Neal until he'd been with him long enough to _know_ the signs. Being there for Neal helped him learn them. "Nick, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, poppa. What's up?"

He bounced beside Peter eagerly, smiling up at him. "C'mere." Peter motioned for him to follow him to the kitchen table where they sat down together. "Do you remember Vincent Adler?"

Nicky gave him a confused look at first and Peter realized he was trying to figure out how he knew the name. It clicked all of a sudden and _that_ was when Peter caught it. He saw a flicker of knowledge and fear sweep across Nicky's expression and his heart ached. "He's the guy who kidnapped me so he could hurt daddy, right?" Peter nodded slowly. A look of horror crossed Nicky's expression then. "Poppa, tell me he isn't out of jail. I don't want daddy to get hurt." He was practically begging Peter by this point and Peter was surprised.

"It's okay, Nicky. He's still in jail," he reassured him, rubbing his shoulder. "He can't hurt daddy. I promise." Nicky sighed in relief, closing his eyes for a second. This was just further proof of how right he'd been when he'd spoken to Neal last night. Nicky loved his father more than anyone else in the world. "I want to ask you if you've been okay since he kidnapped you."

The boy just looked at his poppa, curious and thoughtful. "Yeah. I don't think about him too much." He rested his hands on the table, rubbing the tabletop. "I try not to think about him."

Peter's brows drew together. "What do you feel like when you think about him?"

"Scared. He hurt me, but I know he hurt daddy worse. I'm scared he'll get free and hurt daddy again," he whispered. "Would you protect him if that guy broke out?"

The older man nodded. "Of course. I'd protect you both with my life." He leaned over to kiss Nicky's hair. "You and daddy are the two people I love most. I'd make sure nothing happened to either of you again."

"As long as daddy's okay, so am I." Peter gave him a small smile, proud of him. He was proud of Nicky for being strong and considerate when it came to his father. Neal would be proud of him, too, but he'd be disappointed in himself for being unable to cope the same way Nicky was coping. Peter would have to convince him that Nicky was right when he said what'd been done to Neal was worse than what he did to Nicky. Peter didn't think Neal needed to worry about whether or not he could cope entirely. He was able to stand up to and threaten Adler once or twice and Peter was slightly afraid of the man he heard. Neal would always struggle with his past because he'd been abused both physically and emotionally and pushed past his breaking points. "Poppa, can I ask _you_ something?"

"Sure, Nicky."

"Why did that guy hurt daddy? Both of them, I guess." He paused, biting his lip for a moment before speaking again. "Don't tell daddy I'm talking to you about this, okay?" Peter nodded slowly. He wouldn't be able to keep this from Neal if Neal was to ask about it and he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep it from Neal even if he didn't ask. "I know daddy was raped by those guys. I don't understand why. What did dad do to make them do that to him?"

Peter gaped at his son, staring at him incredulously. This was one conversation he never planned on having with Nicky and he wasn't sure how to go about it. "Um, Nick…" He cleared his throat, thinking this through. "Daddy didn't do anything wrong. That's why they're in jail and he's not. They were really, really mean guys. I don't know how much of this you understand…"

"I know daddy cries, screams, and has nightmares sometimes." Again, Peter gaped at him. "I only come out sometimes. He scares me when he's scared. I don't like hearing him cry. It's nice that he has you now, poppa, because I know he used to cry alone before you came into our lives. Now he has you to help him and hold him when I can't."

Peter was absolutely baffled by that. He never realized how much Nicky heard. He never realized that Nicky understood that something was really wrong and he was surprised that Nicky didn't instantly think something was wrong with his father. Nicky knew Neal was suffering emotionally. "Daddy's a strong man," Peter said quietly. "He was hurt when he was only a couple years older than you and he ran away from home. He was a scared, little boy back then and he didn't know what to do." He really hoped Neal wouldn't hate him for talking about him like this with Nicky. "Daddy was scared that he'd get hurt again, but he was terrified to think _you_ might get hurt. You're his baby, Nick. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let something happen to you." Nicky nodded, understanding everything Peter was telling him.

Even though he was eleven and hadn't experienced as much as either of his fathers, he understood a lot more than they thought he did. "Is that why he never wanted adults near me? Is that why he never let me meet his other boyfriends?"

Peter nodded slowly. "He loves you so much, Nick. He has a hard time trusting people and he didn't want them to hurt you. That's always been his biggest concern." He stroked Nicky's hair, frowning despite his desperate need to act like this wasn't as horrible as it sounded. He couldn't fool himself or the little boy beside him. "He didn't tell me about you right away either. He needed somebody he could trust with his life. Whenever he felt like he could trust someone, he knew he could trust them to be around you."

Nicky's eyes watered a little. He'd always thought Neal might've been embarrassed by him. He'd never met any of Neal's boyfriends, but he knew about them. He heard what they did with his dad and he really didn't like any of the things they'd said to him during those times. Neal always thought Nicky was asleep, but Nicky was worried about him. "I love you."

The older man smiled at his son. "I love you, too, Nick."

"No. I mean, I love you. I really do, poppa." Peter's brows furrowed. "Daddy never felt like he could trust those other guys. They were jerks to him and treated him like crap. He doesn't know that I know."

"How exactly do you know that?" Peter asked tentatively, unsure of whether or not he wanted to know the answer to his question.

Nicky's face flushed a little. "I watched some videos on daddy's laptop before that he didn't want me to see—adult videos." Peter's eyes widened a little. "I watched them a lot when I heard him and some guy making noises in his bedroom and I…knew what they were doing to him."

"Nick, those videos are very inappropriate for—"

"I know, poppa, but I wanted to know what was going on. I wanted to know why he was crying or making loud sounds." Peter's heart clenched a little. "I listened to the guys in those videos and saw things they were probably doing to make him sound like them."

"Jesus Christ," Peter muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Nicky knew _way_ too much. "Nicky, I really hope you're not still watching those videos." He paused momentarily, looking at his son again. "I really hope you don't listen to me and daddy either." Nicky's face flushed again and Peter groaned. "Nicky, you really need to _not_ listen to those things at your age."

Nicky's eyes were wide as he cried, "But it was how I knew you loved him for him and not just because he's good looking!" Peter was floored by that. "He didn't sound like he did with those other guys when he was with you. He sounded like he loved you and I knew you weren't hurting him." He was slightly uncomfortable talking about his and Neal's lovemaking with their _eleven_ year old son. "Dad needed someone to make him happy and he got you, poppa. He smiles a lot more than he used to when you weren't here for him. I couldn't make him smile like you do."

Peter tried to explain, "You make him happy, Nick. Don't assume he was miserable with you because he really wasn't. He loves you and you became his life."

"But… Poppa, he wasn't happy. I knew he loved me and I think he knew I loved him, too. I wasn't happy when he wasn't because I couldn't make him smile. He laughed, but he never laughed the way he laughs now. It sounds different… Better."

"So…" He watched the little boy in front of him, totally unsure of how to close this conversation.

"I am really happy with you both."

Both of them jumped, turning towards the bedroom to see Neal standing between it and the sitting area. Nicky cried, "Dad—" as Peter said Neal's name.

"I'm not sure if I can or should apologize for kinda ruining your innocence," he said to Nicky. "I never realized how obvious or loud I was, I guess, and I'm able to say I'm really sorry for making you think I wasn't happy with you."

Nicky got up from his seat and walked over to his father, hugging him tightly. "Ever since I realized you weren't happy, I wanted you to find the one guy who could make you smile and laugh and take care of you," he whispered. "I know you love me, daddy. Do you know I love you, too?"

Neal stroked his son's hair. "Of course I—"

"_Really_ love you," Nicky interjected. "Do you know I really love you?"

Neal kept stroking Nicky's hair, smiling faintly. "Yes, I do." And deep down, he did know that. Prying his son's arms off of him and kneeling in front of his son, he met blue eyes that matched his own. "I was never unhappy with you," he whispered to his son. "You're my greatest accomplishment. I look at you and see the kind of happiness and innocence I wanted as a kid. All I've ever wanted since you came home with me the day you were born was to give you a good life, Nick."

"You did and still are," Nicky said adamantly. "You told me once when I was really little that your dad left you and you didn't understand why he never reached out to you or tried to find you." He gently touched his father's face, smiling softly. "Daddy, you've been in my life all my life. I know my mom is dead, but you've always been here for me. You were there to walk with me and trick-or-treat with me on Halloween, take me to the mall to see Santa near Christmas, and sing to me on my birthday." Neal's eyes were starting to water and he had to reach up quickly to rub the wetness away. "You're my hero and you always will be. You've been hurt a lot, but you never once hurt me. Trent's dad hurt him and you protected Trent. You never hit me or threatened me, dad. You're not like some of my friends' dads."

"Nicky," he said, getting a little emotional. He was really overwhelmed by this considering he's always believed Nicky would come to resent him.

"I'm not done yet," Nicky said with a smile. He pointed over at his room, saying, "You destroyed a room for your stuff to make my bedroom. You painted it and decorated it when I was a baby and you buy me posters and stuff to put in there." Next, he pointed at Peter. "You met poppa at work a couple years ago. I remember you telling Uncle Mozzie that you thought you'd never have a chance with another guy because you had a bunch of problems, but look. He loves you and you both have rings to show that. He loves you as much as I love you and as much as you love us. You _need_ to see that we love you that much, dad." He gave his dad a goofy smile, messing with his hair. "You're not dumb, but you really need to learn that you're not the only guy here who loves someone else with all of his heart."

He'd expected to lecture Nicky a little bit about listening to his bedtime activities and watching his videos of loneliness, but he ended up crying because his son made him open his eyes. "God, Nick," he moaned, pulling his son close. He cried against his son's shoulder and Nicky just played with his hair.

Peter was really touched. Yes, he hated when Neal cried, but _this_ was an exception. Nicky was right. Neal did need to learn that he was loved just as much as he loves. "I love you, daddy," he whispered. "Poppa loves you, too."

Neal nodded, leaning back to wipe his eyes and cheeks before looking at his son's shirt and chuckling. He shook his head, laughing lightly now. "I love you both, too." He kissed Nicky's forehead and looked up at his husband, holding his hand out for him. Pete rose from his seat and came to stand beside Neal, taking his hand. "Thank you both for showing me the true meaning of unconditional love," he whispered, sniffling a bit. He squeezed Peter's hand and pulled his son against him for another hug, sighing contentedly. He always told himself that he was nothing more than a whore or some disgusting human being with enough baggage to overflow an airport, but he never believed anybody would or could love him as much as he loves them. Being in the presence of the only two people he loves more than anyone or anything, he knew he'd need to work on accepting the fact that he was _wrong._ He would need to accept that he _is_ loved unconditionally. "I'm so thankful for you both," he whispered. "You're the family I've wanted to have all my life."

Peter knelt beside Neal, letting go of his husband's hand in order to hold them both. "You'll have this family for the rest of your life," Nicky said against his father's neck, closing his eyes, "because poppa and I aren't going anywhere without you."


	60. Chapter 60

Peter woke up to the sounds of someone getting sick from a distance. He didn't want to move, but he slid his hand across the bed, feeling for Neal. Neal's side was cool, so Peter realized Neal hadn't been in bed for a while. Sighing, he pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes, listening to the noises that were seemingly coming from the bathroom. He stumbled a bit as he climbed out of bed and made his way towards the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar and he pushed it open, looking in to find Neal on his knees, rubbing Nicky's back as Nicky leaned over the toilet. "Is he okay?" Peter asked concernedly.

Neal glanced up at him and he was startled to see how exhausted his husband looked. "I think it's a stomach bug. He'll be okay." Peter nodded, watching Neal take care of their son. He wet a washcloth and wiped Nicky's face and neck before wiping his mouth. When Nicky felt that he could pry himself away from the toilet, he leaned back against Neal. "Love, can you get him some water?"

"Of course," Peter said, heading out to the kitchen to do just that. He brought the water back and handed it to Nicky a minute later. Nicky was swallowing slowly with Neal's help. Both of them looked pale, Nicky more so. "Hon, is there anything I can do for _you?_"

Neal held the glass of water up to Peter when Nicky was finished with it and Peter took it, setting it down on the sink counter. "I'm all right. I need to get him back to bed though." He started helping Nicky up, holding onto him. "Come on, baby," he whispered, holding Nicky upright.

Peter held his arms out and Nicky leaned towards him, falling into Peter's arms. The older man lifted their son gently and carried him from the bathroom. "Couch," he moaned. "Please, poppa?"

Glancing over his shoulder, he realized Neal didn't really look like he was going to be authoritative. "Sure," he murmured, carrying the boy to the couch. He set Nicky down and pulled the blanket down and over him, covering him up. Nicky looked miserable when he looked up at Peter and it made Peter's heart ache. He'd seen Nicky sick before, but he hadn't seen Nicky with this kind of bug.

Neal finally went over to them, setting a bowl beside Nicky. "Here you go, kiddo," he said quietly, leaning forward to ruffle Nicky's hair a bit. "Get some rest. You'll feel better."

Nicky nodded, closing his eyes. Peter knew he'd be out like a light before they knew it. He turned to face his husband, looking him over with a critical eye. "God," he whispered, reaching over to feel Neal's forehead for a fever. "I think you should get back into bed, too. You look like hell."

"Thanks," Neal muttered sarcastically, heading over to the bed. He plopped down onto it and closed his eyes, his breathing labored. "I think Mozzie gave us food poisoning last night."

Peter sat beside Neal, resting his hand on Neal's chest. "What did he make you guys?" He hadn't been home for dinner for work related reasons and Mozzie offered to cook for Neal and Nicky.

"Hamburgers. I don't think he cooked them all the way through. They tasted kinda weird anyway."

"I'm sorry, honey," he whispered. "Have you been up long?"

Neal nodded, sighing. "He woke me up around two-thirty and told me he wasn't feeling well. I tried to go back to sleep, but he came back crying and told me he threw up, so I didn't even try to go back to bed after that. I got sick twice, but he threw up at least five times since three this morning."

Peter moved to lay on his side beside Neal, watching his husband. "Geez, hon. You need to get some rest yourself." He tried to kiss Neal, but Neal told him not to because he was disgusting since he'd gotten sick and he didn't want Peter to get sick, too. "Can we at least spoon?" he asked, pouting teasingly at his husband. Neal groaned and rolled over onto his side, holding his stomach. Peter noticed and sat up a bit. "Neal, do you need to get back in the bathroom?"

"I'm all right." He scooted backwards, pressing himself against Peter. "Hold me?"

The older man laid back down, draping his arm over Neal's side. He rested his hand above the hand Neal placed on his own stomach, gently stroking Neal's skin. The younger man was quiet, content with just the feeling of Peter. He always fell asleep the easiest when he was with Peter and he was so grateful to have that man in bed with him whenever he wanted him.

A few hours after Nicky and Neal went back to sleep, Peter was playing a game on his phone quietly. He was lying on his back now with Neal's head resting on his chest. Neal kept moving around and he finally settled when he'd gotten into the position he loved sleeping in most. Just as he was about to win the game, Neal began to breathe erratically. Peter focused on him, concerned. His husband's face looked very pale now. "Neal?" he whispered. Neal's eyes flew open and he seemed like he was going into a panic. He threw the blanket off of himself, prying his body out of Peter's one-armed grip, and made a mad dash for the bathroom.

Peter's brows furrowed as he threw his phone down and slid out of bed, going after his husband. He heard him vomiting before he'd even gotten into the bathroom. As soon as he was there, he knelt beside Neal, rubbing his back. "Stomach is killing me," he whispered hoarsely.

"Do you need me to step out?" Peter asked, concerned when Neal slumped back a bit. Neal nodded and lifted himself enough to flush the toilet before getting up to get on it. Peter gave him privacy and stepped out after closing the door, subsequently heading out to the couch to check on Nicky. Nicky's eyes were open and he was looking up at Peter when he came into view. "Hey," Peter whispered. "Are you drinking your water?" Nicky nodded, holding the glass up for Peter so the older man could refill it for him. He did just that and brought the glass back, sitting on the table in front of the couch. "How are you feeling, buddy?"

Nicky looked absolutely miserable now. "Throat and nose hurt. Stomach isn't as bad as it was earlier." He glanced around the room for a moment. "Where's dad?"

"He's in the bathroom. He'll be out in a couple minutes." A couple minutes became forty minutes and Peter was getting increasingly worried. Just as he entered the hallway to head towards the bathroom, the door opened and Neal came out with wet hair, a towel around his waist. Peter stopped at stared at his husband's bare skin with water droplets dripping down his chest. "You okay?" he asked when he finally snapped out of his daze. He moved closer to Neal, resting a hand on Neal's chest.

"Yeah. I felt disgusting afterwards, so I took a shower and brushed my teeth. I'm all clean for any activities you're interested in performing today."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Honey, you're sick. The last thing you need right now is for me to nauseate you when we're making love. It can wait, okay?" Neal groaned, but gave in nonetheless.

Mozzie stayed away from the Burkes for the night. He himself had food poisoning. Earlier in the day, he'd texted Peter to ask about Neal and Nicky, which ended with him giving Peter a sincere apology for making the two of them sick.

The following morning was Monday morning and they were feeling better, but not quite one hundred percent. Neal got up early, waking Peter in the process, and they talked for a little while before Nicky woke up, too. While Neal was getting dressed, Peter was pulling his shoes on. "So, since we haven't entirely thought about this very much, what are we planning on telling Martins? We got distracted, you fucked me, I'm pregnant, and we really didn't think of anything beneficial for his plan?"

Peter chuckled, getting up to stand behind his husband, holding his hips. "Even though I like the sound of that, I don't think that'd work very well for us in the end." Neal smiled, leaning back and twisting himself enough so Peter could kiss him. "Essentially, I guess the idea is that we'll walk in pretending to be fake FBI agents. You and I discussed separating our parts. I'll stay in the car and wait for you to bring his things down and you'll make the trade, right?"

"Correct, my love."

The older man's hands slid over Neal's body, wrapping his arms around Neal's torso. "All right. I'm curious to figure out who our inside man is. Reese is going to be pissed."

"Let's just hope they're low enough in the chain of command. If they make me, the op is over." He looked up at his husband. "You're well known throughout the building, so… Sending you in is pretty much the same as telling him outright that we're FBI agents."

"All right, my pregnant husband, we need to take Nick to school and get ourselves to work. We're meeting with Reese to coordinate our plan so he knows what's going on and then we'll head out to meet Martins around noon—together."

Neal made a small giggling sound, liking the way he and Peter teased each other about being pregnant. They were both dressed professionally and even Nicky looked pretty snazzy. "Well, look at my little superstar," Neal said, watching his son as he came back into the living area.

Nicky grinned at his father as they all collected their things and made their way down to the ground floor to get into the Taurus outside of the grand house. Neal was flipping through files while Peter drove to Ascension to drop Nicky off. "Bye, daddy!" Nicky said as the car stopped. He leaned over his father's seat and kissed Neal's cheek. "See you after school!"

Neal laughed, nodding. "Be good, baby. I love you."

"Love you!" the little boy threw over his shoulder as Peter got out and walked him into the school.

As soon as Peter came back, he reached over to take Neal's hand. "Everything okay?" Neal asked.

"Yes, hon," Peter said quietly. "Just admiring you." He was smiling softly at his husband, wishing they could just go home and sleep together—intimately or innocently. Neal returned the smile, lifting Peter's hand to kiss his knuckles. "You're such a beautiful man and I'm so lucky to have you."

Neal laughed lightly, giving Peter a wry smile. "You're a _handsome_ man and, Peter, I'm more lucky to have you than you are to have me. I always tell you that I would've fallen for you and done anything for you in a heartbeat."

Peter let go of Neal's hand long enough to turn the car on and pull away from the sidewalk, taking them to work. "Can I ask why you think you're luckier than I am?"

"Because I was a mess when you met me. I was a single father with an eight year old and I came with a lot of emotional baggage. There was really no way of telling whether or not you'd want to stick around if we started something," he said quietly, glancing over at Peter. "Some part of me knew I'd have to tell you everything someday if we got serious. Peter, I love you so much more than you know because you stayed. You never once threatened to leave me if I acted strange. You were always so concerned about me."

The older man nodded. "I love you and all that that entails. I love your son and I'm not leaving you to carry all of your emotional baggage yourself." Neal leaned back against the seat, smiling lovingly at him. "You deserve happiness, Neal. I wanted to be the person to give that to you. I wanted to show you that you aren't unlovable. You're so insecure about yourself, but I love you more than anything because of those insecurities. That means you're more sensitive about yourself and you're not an egomaniac."

Neal chuckled. "Yeah. Well, my insecurities seem to turn you on, so…"

"Oh, that's _wrong._ Honey…"

"I was teasing you, Peter. Sheesh." Peter glanced over to find his husband giving him an affectionate smile. "You're so sweet."

When they finally got to work, Peter was embarrassed by the fact that the kiss Neal gave him before getting into the elevator made him harder than hell. He was so glad that his suit jacket hung a little lower than usual. Neal gave him a knowing smile when they got to the twenty-first floor and stepped out of the elevator. He followed Neal all the way up to his office. Neal didn't really need to be at his desk until later, so he spent time with Peter for a little bit. All he'd have to do is work on some reports for Peter anyway.

Peter circled his desk to take his seat while Neal sat in the chair directly across from him, leaning over it, crossing his arms on top of the desk. Peter observed his husband, raising an eyebrow. This was a little game they'd started playing since coming back from their honeymoon. They'd sit across from each other and simply stare at each other while trying to figure out what the other man was thinking. Peter found himself getting lost in Neal's eyes and he hoped he wasn't making it too obvious for Neal. He _really_ wanted Neal. It kind of ruined the game when his body gave things away.

"You've got a song in your head," Peter guessed, briefly glancing at Neal's fingers to see him lightly tapping on the desk. He hadn't noticed it at first and he knew Neal wasn't aware of it. When Neal smiled, he knew he'd gotten it right. "Let me think… You're mentally singing _Can You Feel the Love Tonight._"

Neal chuckled, shaking his head. "That was too easy. We watched _The Lion King_ last night and that was the one song I mentioned that I absolutely loved."

Peter slid his hand across his desk, resting it atop Neal's. "You're a very romantic man," he whispered.

"And you're thinking about fucking me." The older man was slightly surprised. Neal lifted three fingers, ticking off the ways he knew what Peter was thinking. "Erection in the elevator." He lowered one finger. "You were staring intently into my eyes just a few moments ago." He lowered another finger, giving his last explanation. "And you're subconsciously licking your lips while looking at mine." He gave Peter an adorable smile that Peter loved. It was one of his teasing smiles and Peter always liked how childlike and innocent it made his husband look.

Peter returned the smile. "You've learned well, grasshopper."

Neal ducked his head and chuckled. "We've been having sex for two years. I should know by now when you're turned on."

"Now, tell me if you're turned on."

Neal lifted his head, raising an eyebrow. "You tell me, Peter Burke."

Peter was looking at him critically and Neal was just smiling at him. "Neal Burke," he murmured. "You have a fantastic poker face, _but_ your eyes give away your lust."

"Very good," Neal teased. "Want a cookie now?"

"Annoying bastard," he muttered, intertwining their fingers. Neal laughed, meeting Peter's eyes. "But I'd be lying if I said I didn't love you."

Before Neal could respond, a knock hit the office door. Neal turned a bit as Diana came in. "Boss, our tail on Martins just lost him."

Neal gave Peter a concerned look and Peter spoke up. "He can't pull the job without us, so I highly doubt he's going to sneak into the FBI building before meeting with us shortly."

"Hughes wants you two in the conference room now regardless."

Both men nodded, getting up to move into the adjacent room where Hughes was already waiting for them. Diana came in and shut the door behind her. "Martins was acting sketchy before we lost him," he told the couple. "He kept looking over his shoulder and he was holding onto what we're assuming was a burner phone. We can't get a hold of said phone, so we can't look into who he's texting or calling."

Neal crossed his arms over his chest. Just as he was about to speak, Peter's phone started buzzing. The other three in the room looked at him warily as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Shit." He answered the phone and politely said, "Hello, Mister Martins." He glanced at Neal and turned the phone onto its speaker setting, laying it on the tabletop.

"_Mister Slausen, good morning._"

Peter's brows furrowed. "Is there something wrong or something I can do for you?"

There was a brief pause. "_I was wondering if you'd be able to come down early. I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you before Mister Halden arrives._" That concerned Peter as he looked at his husband, the concern reflecting on his face. "_Nothing bad to report, Mister Slausen. Just…polishing up on some things before our meeting._"

"Sure," Peter said, his faux confidence sounding realistically enthusiastic. "What time would you like me to arrive?"

"_Eleven-thirty._"

"I'll be there." The call ended and Neal lost himself in thought, wondering what Martins was doing. "He's singling you out," he said to Neal. "I don't like this. Neal, I don't want you to come down for the job at noon. None of this is setting right with me."

Neal met Peter's gaze. "I'm sure it's not that bad," he said a bit hesitantly. "You're the muscleman. Maybe he just wants to discuss security measures. After all, I'm going to bring everything down to you. You're supposed to have my back and make sure we aren't followed or approached."

Peter still didn't feel like this was the right thing to do. He respects his husband's opinion and he didn't want to seem condescending by taking him out of play when they didn't have concrete evidence that Neal was in danger. "All right. I'll let you know, hon. If this doesn't go well, I don't want you involved," he whispered.

"I can handle myself," Neal said adamantly.

"I never said you couldn't."

Neal glared a little at him. "You're implying that I can't defend myself in this kind of hypothetical situation."

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm implying that I love you to death and I'd kind of prefer it if you were alive to go home with me later." There was an awkward silence in the conference room as Neal looked away from Peter and Peter kept his eyes on Neal. Diana shifted uncomfortably beside Hughes.

"We'll have you wired, Peter, so we'll know ahead of time if we need to take extra precautions." He glanced warily at Neal. "I'll do my best to protect my agents."

"Thanks, Reese," Peter said a bit tightly. Diana and Hughes stepped out a few moments later, closing the door to leave the couple alone. "What was that all about?" Peter asked once they were completely alone. Neal shook his head, wanting to avoid another confrontation. "Tell me. If there's some kind of tension between us that I'm not aware of, I'd like it if you told me."

Neal sighed exasperatedly. "Peter, you're talking about pulling me out of something extremely important over something as little as a tiny bit of danger. I—"

"Do you think Martins is playing games? Neal, if he catches onto you or makes some kind of assumption about you, he'll kill you." Neal was silent. "He's a drug dealer. For all we know, maybe he's planning on popping or snorting something or considering dosing you with something before our meeting. I don't want to lose you, damn it. I'm trying to protect you."

"Why do you always think I can't defend myself, Peter?" he asked firmly. "I'm sorry for being such a pushover in our relationship, but I can handle external situations that have nothing to do with my personal life very well, I think. You—"

"You wouldn't last a minute if he threatened you and I wasn't around." Neal gaped at him, his expression that of a man whose heart just broke. He didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't even understand why Peter was acting like that.

He felt like he was going to cry, but he sucked it up and blinked rapidly to clear the tears before they could form. "All right," he whispered, turning to leave.

Peter snapped out of it then and desperately cried, "Wait, Neal. I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, you did."

Neal walked out and Peter followed him, gently gripping the younger man's shoulders. "I didn't mean that," he repeated. "I don't know where that came from, but you know—"

"That I'm weak. Yeah, I know." He looked away from Peter. "Just do your thing and everything will be fine. I'm such a liability and I apologize for putting our op in jeopardy. I'll work on that." He left without allowing Peter to say another word. Peter watched as Neal miserably took a seat at his own desk, staring at his computer screen unseeingly.

He hated himself for saying that to Neal. He had no reason to act like that and he knew he upset his husband. Talking to Neal seemed as effective as talking to a wall when Peter insulted him, so he steered himself away from his husband for a little while.

By the time eleven o'clock came around, Peter was getting ready to leave. He glanced in the direction of Neal's desk and frowned, hating how dejected Neal looked as he worked. He tentatively made his way down into the bullpen and stopped beside Neal's desk, whispering, "Honey, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Neal said quietly, a slight tremor in his voice.

"No, it's not. Neal, I really didn't mean what I said…" Neal nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact with the older man. Peter slid his wedding ring off of his finger and held it out to Neal. The younger man glanced at his hand and his lips parted in shock. "No!" Peter was quick to interject. "I'm heading out and I want you to hold onto this for me." Neal's cheeks flushed and he nodded, holding his hand out for it. Peter set it in his palm gently and stared into his husband's eyes. "I love you more than anything, Neal. I'm a jackass, but I don't want something like a stupid comment I made to come between us."

Neal stared at Peter in silence for a moment before nodding. "We're all right. Promise me you'll be careful, babe," he whispered, sounding like he was pleading with Peter.

Peter wanted to do so much more than just make a promise to his husband. He had the urge to pull him into a hug and quelled it for a moment before deciding that he really didn't give a damn. He moved around Neal's desk and gently pulled Neal up, pulling him into a tight hug. "I promise you I'll be careful." He kissed Neal's neck, cradling the back of his head. "All I want to do is get this over with and go home to have dinner with my lovely husband and our wonderful son."

Neal smiled, blinking back tears that Peter couldn't see. He rubbed Peter's back, burying his face into the crook of Peter's neck. "I love you more than anything—even if you're a jerk."

The older man chuckled halfheartedly, squeezing Neal before taking a step back. "I'll make it up to you later, baby. I promise—and I'm not talking physically." He rested his hand above Neal's heart, giving his husband a small smile. "I'm going to make it up to you emotionally since I really, really hurt your pride there."

Neal shrugged. "I don't have much pride in myself anyway," he muttered. Peter playfully swatted Neal's ass, eliciting a startled noise from his husband. "Hey," he whined. "We don't do things like that at work. You know I can't do my work for you if I'm as hard as a rock," he added under his breath.

"You'll manage," Peter whispered, "because I can do my work and think about you with a hard-on simultaneously."

"Nobody likes a showoff."

"I have to get going, honey," he said sadly. "I'll see you down there in less than an hour." Again, he pulled Neal into a hug. "Love you, angel."

Neal sighed contentedly against Peter. "Love you, Superman."

•◊•

Peter was curious about the reasons surrounding why he'd been called down to meet Martins privately half an hour before he and Neal were supposed to meet with him. He was waiting in one of the storage units for Martins. "Mister Slausen," Martins greeted enthusiastically.

Peter turned around and forced a smile. "Mister Martins." He met the other man halfway and shook his hand, nodding. "Feels good to be back in business after our break."

"Indeed," Martins acknowledged. "That's part of why I've asked you to arrive early. Have you been in contact with Mister Halden?"

"Yes," Peter said reluctantly. "He and I discussed plans over the span of a few days."

Martins raised an eyebrow. "Did he create the plan?"

"Yes."

The other man nodded and gestured for Peter to follow him. He didn't continue the original conversation they'd had and that made Peter curious. He'd wired himself before leaving the bureau and knew Diana was on the other end, listening in case Neal needed to be pulled—though Peter was starting to think Neal would be fine regardless since they'd be together. Martins gave Peter some busywork, asking him to move some things around in the storage unit.

Peter didn't _want_ to comply, but he did to keep up his façade. He lost track of time and glanced at his watch, realizing it was ten after noon and he hadn't heard nor seen Martins or Neal. He set a crate down and wandered over towards the exit of the storage unit. "I don't know what game you're playing, boy, but if my operation is ruined, _you_ will be to blame."

"I assure you—"

He cut Neal off immediately. "Don't make assurances." Peter's heart clenched as he felt the bitterness and anger of Martins' tone. "I'm altering your plan, whatever that may be. I don't want you putting Mister Slausen in jeopardy."

Peter glanced around the corner, seeing the confusion on his husband's face. "He's my partner. We worked this plan out together. He thinks—"

"I don't give a damn what he thinks. He's an asset and you're a liability." Neal swallowed, keeping quiet. "I don't like when my assets are messed with, Mister Halden." He stepped closer to Neal, bringing a blade up to Neal's neck, startling the younger man. Peter's eyes widened and he darted out into the open. Neal's brief glance in his direction gave him away and Martins instantly relaxed, turning to give Peter a fake smile. "Mister Slausen, good timing. Halden and I were just discussing the operation."

Neal warned Peter with his eyes and Peter understood. "Oh, good. What do you think?"

Martins glanced at Neal. "I see a few flaws in the plan." Peter's brows furrowed. "I want you inside, taking out security systems and clearing the path for Halden. If he can do the exchange properly, he can escape and pack everything into your car. You'll meet him outside and bring everything back to me." He paused for a moment before adding, "I want you both to arrive separately."

Neal and Peter nodded in agreement and Martins wandered off to go about his business. "Peter," Neal whispered desperately, moving closer to him.

"I'm not gonna let him hurt you," Peter growled quietly. "I don't know what he has against you, but he's not touching you, angel."

The younger man nodded, swallowing. "I'm starting to think you might've been right."

"No. I'm not going to put you down," Peter whispered. "We'll play this out. I know you'll do just fine and this will end just fine." Though Peter's gut seemed to think otherwise, Peter was desperately trying to convince himself that he and Neal could pull this off flawlessly. Martins returned and was practically looming over the couple as they discussed plans for breaking and entering quietly. Peter suggested that Neal take a back entrance and stairway while he took out the cameras in said stairway and Martins liked the idea.

By the time they were getting ready to get to work, Neal pulled Peter aside and stared up at him. "Please be safe. I need you," he whispered.

Peter kissed his forehead. "I need you, too," he replied just as quietly. "I love you, angel. I'll see you when we get back here."

Neal nodded, telling Peter he loved him before they went their separate ways to get into their cars. Peter was the first to leave as was part of the plan and he would 'infiltrate' the FBI building. He was starting to think this was a bad idea the more he thought about what Neal said to him earlier. He is known throughout the building, so it may not be a good idea for him to be taking such an active role in the building.

He had a really bad feeling as he drove. Something was making him feel hollow inside and he didn't know what it was.

•◊•

Peter disabled the security systems and was waiting to get the text message from Neal's burner phone that everything was all set and ready to go. He was proud of the fact that he'd managed to break in without sounding the initial alarms he was aware of, but hadn't had disabled. It was pretty much out of sheer luck that he'd gotten inside as silently as he did. Nonetheless, he'd done his part very well and knew Martins would be impressed with him. That meant the end of the operation was coming and they'd be questioning Martins and prying answers out of him in no time. He waited impatiently for his husband's text message and reached for the phone immediately the moment it went off. "_All good._"

He sighed in relief, heading out. Reese knew he was there and Reese made sure no one caught Peter for the sake of preserving the operation. As soon as he got outside, he saw a man who was very much _not_ Neal putting their packages into the backseat of the car Neal drove to the storage unit in. "Where's Halden?" he asked as he neared the other man.

"Boss kept him behind; said he needed him."

Peter didn't give a damn about the packages. Diana and Jones were already en route to pick this guy and the packages up from the moment they realized Neal wasn't the one doing the exchange. Peter cleared out, frantically making his way back to his car. He fumbled with his keys, finally getting himself into the car. His heart was going into overdrive as he wondered what Martins wanted with Neal. He seemed very hostile when it came to Neal and he knew he should've waited for Neal to leave first. He shouldn't have left Neal in Martins' hands.

He raced through side streets to get back to the storage unit, hoping and praying to a God he didn't believe in that Neal was all right.

•◊•

Neal was thrown to the floor roughly, landing on his knees in front of his stunned husband. He was bound and gagged and looked like he'd been beaten while Peter was gone. His temple and cheek were bruising and he assumed he had a mild concussion after Martins slammed his head against a wall when he was unaware of Martins' presence for a split second before he'd tried to leave for the bureau.

Peter met his eyes and forced himself to attempt to salvage their operation. He had no idea how Neal's cover had been blown, but he swore he'd find out the moment all of Martins' men and Martins himself were taken down. They'd hurt his husband and he wasn't going to let them get away with that. His gut told him things weren't going to end well and he hoped he was able to save Neal somehow before Martins put a bullet through his head.

His heart ached as his young husband looked at him fearfully. "We have ourselves a spy," Martins growled, glaring at Neal. Peter, for the first time since arriving in a panic, noticed that Martins had what looked like a crowbar in his hands. That explained some of the visible injuries on Neal's face and arms. Now that he was looking, Neal was bleeding more than he realized. "I think we need to put the fear of God into this son of a bitch and teach him what happens to _spies_ in our midst." Peter, for a brief moment, tore his eyes away from Neal and moved just in time to grab at the crowbar. Neal flinched out of a simple reaction to the sound of the crowbar coming into contact with Peter's hands. Peter was relieved to have such a fast reaction. If he hadn't, the crowbar would've connected with the back of his husband's skull and, depending on the force of his blow, might've caused serious if not fatal damage to the younger man. "Mister Slausen, do we have a problem?" he asked, challenge in his tone.

Peter didn't know what to do. He couldn't wreck the op this late into the game, but he also couldn't allow them to beat his husband to death. He forced a laugh and looked down at Neal, seeing the terror in his eyes. "You think killing him is a punishment?" he asked, laughing harder. "Bastard can't learn if he's _dead._" He inwardly cringed, truly hating himself for talking about Neal, the love of his life, like this _in front of Neal._ "I say we draw it out a bit longer." He forced himself to look like he craved the pain he was suggesting. "Make him grovel at your feet and beg for mercy until he can't breathe enough to keep going."

Neal swallowed hard, truly terrified of the situation at hand. He trusted Peter to take care of him, but he didn't know what Peter would do against Martins and the other few men Martins had backing him up. Martins let go of the crowbar, much to the couple's relief, and Peter stepped back with it in-hand. Neal was watching his husband intently, knowing that, as long as Peter had the crowbar, no one was going to kill him at the moment. "Will you do the honors, Mister Slausen?" Neal's eyes widened as he met Peter's eyes. The older man's heart broke on his face as he tried to make the decision on his own. He couldn't hurt Neal. He swore he'd never hurt Neal. Martins noticed his reluctance to go through with the beating and added, "Have you two gotten close over these last couple of weeks?"

Peter looked at Martins now, gritting his teeth. "Yes."

Martins nodded and Peter thought he might get let off the hook because he'd admitted that he was intimately interested in Neal, figuring they'd be okay because it was part of their partnership. "That'll make this all the more bittersweet, won't it, Peter? He betrayed us and now he'll have to look you in the eyes as you beat the life out of him."

Peter's hands trembled as his gaze returned to the man on his knees. Neal gave him the slightest of nods and Peter understood immediately that Neal gave him permission in order to keep the operation in play until they could get all the evidence they needed. He was not even the slightest bit eager to go through with this, but he would do it with a heavy heart. As he tossed the crowbar to the floor a little ways away from where he stood, he pleaded for forgiveness with his eyes, hoping that Neal wouldn't hate him for this.

Neal's eyes were on him as he balled his right hand into a fist and he felt Neal's pain even as he slammed his fist into Neal's jaw. His entire body went cold as soon as he registered the muffled cry of pain as Neal hit the floor. Peter watched him closely as he stalked towards him and gripped the front of his shirt. There was no fear in Neal's eyes as he yanked his lover up onto his shaky legs. No, Neal was showing how much he trusted and loved Peter and Peter felt like a horrible person—like a horrible husband.

Upon pulling Neal to his feet, he was absolutely devastated by how calm Neal was in the face of pain inflicted upon him by the man he loves and trusts more than anyone.

Peter truly hated himself for what he was doing to his husband. He'd hate himself more as he was forced to watch Neal recover from this later. Neal gave him permission to do this to him, but Peter would never be able to forgive himself. He would always resent himself for being unable to end the op to protect his lover. He wasn't just some random guy he was beating and he was trying to force himself to believe that he _did_ grab someone at random, but he couldn't stop seeing _Neal._ This is his husband's life in his hands. After vowing to him that he'd never hurt him, he was doing just that. He'd be lucky if Neal stayed with him after this. No amount of trust or faith should make Neal _allow_ Peter to do this to him. He tried to rationalize that Neal knew how it felt to be beaten already and he was able to survive it a little easier because of that, but the thought was no more comforting than was the idea that he might accidentally go over the edge and end up killing Neal.

His next punch connected with Neal's cheekbone and the blow itself was hard enough to make Neal drop to the hard floor once more. Neal was in pain, but he was trying so desperately to suppress it so Peter would stay in character. The older man straddled Neal, apology briefly flashing across his expression as he stared down at him. He subsequently began to pound Neal into the floor blindly, closing his eyes so he wouldn't see the pain in his lover's face.

Hearing the muffled groans wasn't nearly as deafening as was the sound of what Peter thought might've been a crack in Neal's ribs. He knew he'd caused severe damage when Neal barely managed to stifle a scream of agony.

Peter lost all sense of control while he shoved the man he loved more than life itself around, throwing punches and practically tossing him around, until Neal was no longer moving beneath him. Neal's eyes were closed and his head lolled to the side. Peter's heart stopped as soon as he realized he'd beaten his husband into unconsciousness. He reacted mere seconds later and pressed his fingers against Neal's neck to feel for a pulse. He was grateful beyond words to feel his husband's heartbeat. "That ought to teach him," Peter forced himself to say, adding a slight tone of bitterness to his voice, sounding as though he felt betrayed. In reality, he did feel betrayed—he'd betrayed his word and his promise to his husband.

He rose to his feet and stared down at his husband's motionless, bruised and battered body. This was what he imagined Neal looking like after Keller beat him in the past. He could imagine Neal looking this way after being raped by Adler and he knew Neal almost looked as damaged as he'd appeared when Peter came to rescue him from Craig. Reflecting on that now, Peter knew he could never be with Neal after this. He'd become one of those monsters who hurt Neal. Adler, Keller, and Craig didn't give a damn about what they'd done to Neal. Adler took Neal's innocence without giving it a second thought, Keller abused Neal's emotions and need for some form of attachment, and Craig simply used Neal as a sex toy. Now Peter had used him as a punching bag. He was no better than those monsters, especially since he promised he'd never hit Neal, that he'd always protect Neal from this kind of suffering again.

Two of Martins' men came to grab Neal, grabbing him in what looked like the most painful way possible had Neal been conscious enough to be aware of it. They dragged the young man unceremoniously towards a cage of some sort and threw him inside, locking him in there after kicking his legs in to make sure he was completely uncomfortable in the very small confines he'd been forced into. Peter knew Neal wouldn't be able to move once he was conscious again and he knew he needed to get Neal out of there as soon as possible. He had no idea how much damage he'd done to his husband. For all he knew, Neal had severe brain damage, was internally bleeding, and was broken in more places than one.

"That was admittedly impressive for someone who claimed to have gotten close to their victim," Martins complimented, slugging Peter's back. "Good work, Peter."

Peter was forced out of the room and made to stay overnight in the warehouse nearby so Martins and his men could keep an eye on him just in case he decided to go rogue on them. As Peter laid in his makeshift bed after shooting Mozzie and Michael a text, asking them to grab Nicky and take him to Elizabeth and Diana's house, he couldn't stop seeing his husband looking pained and then simply lifeless. His heart ached. How could he ever look Neal in the eyes and tell him he loves him after this? How could Neal ever love him in return for causing him so much pain?

It wasn't until well into the night that he was finally able to get away long enough to sneak back into the storage unit. The lights were out inside and his heart pounded in his chest. He was trying to listen for his husband's labored breaths and heard faint, pained sounds. He followed the sounds to the cage Neal was locked up in and finally heard just how pained he was. Peter groped the wall for the light switch he'd seen earlier and was stunned when he finally found it.

He turned and found Neal curled in on himself just as he'd been earlier. He rushed to the cage and knelt in front of it, observing his husband with a critical eye. There was too much blood for his comfort and the bruising he could see made him want to _die._ "Jesus Christ," he moaned miserably. "Neal, look at me." He managed to reach in and slip the gag out of Neal's mouth, which was followed by an agonizing, quiet scream. Neal forced his eyes to open, staring up at Peter. Peter hated and damned Neal for giving him such an innocent look. He hated Neal for being all right with this while he was killing himself inside. "How badly did I hurt you?"

Neal gasped as he tried to move. Peter urged him to stay still while looking around for something to use to open the cage. "Cracked—rib," he said breathlessly, shutting his eyes tightly. "Dislocated—shoulder." He was panting by this point and Peter reached over to stroke Neal's hair, silent tears streaming down his face. He never liked when Neal was in pain and he hated it especially when he'd caused Neal's pain. Shooting him by accident hadn't felt nearly as heart wrenching and devastating as beating the living hell out of his husband. "It's—It's okay."

Peter shook his head, vehemently growling with a voice thickened by his tears, "This is far from okay, damn you." Neal looked hurt by that and Peter was finally satisfied to have gotten _one_ painful look directed at himself. He deserved to see that look in Neal's eyes since he'd betrayed Neal in every way possible. "God damn it, Neal. This isn't like when I've accidentally hurt you in bed or shot you. I beat the shit out of you. I could've fucking killed you!"

Neal's breaths were shaky as he tried to refrain from crying. He wanted to cry because the pain was so intense and he wanted to cry even more now since Peter was angry and yelling at him. He swallowed hard, trying to speak without hurting himself. "Love—" He cried out and his body contorted with the pain. Peter visibly flinched, simmering as he tried to help ease Neal's pain. "—you."

The older man glanced around once again, trying to find a makeshift picklock to get Neal out of the cage. He found something he thought might work and decided to give it a try. He wasn't exactly the best at it, but he'd be the best he damn well could be if it got Neal out of this. He wiggled the makeshift pick in the lock and listened as it clicked until it finally unlocked. In an instant, he threw the cage door open and crawled closer to Neal, putting himself halfway into the cage with his husband. He stroked Neal's hair, allowing himself to cry freely as he stared down at his husband's face. There was blood in Neal's mouth, on Neal's lips, and he knew he'd caused that. "I'm getting you out of here," he said adamantly, reaching up to wipe his eyes harshly. "Fuck the God damned op and the God damned FBI." He tried to pull Neal up into his arms as gently as he could and received sounds of protest from Neal, vaguely hearing Neal tell him he needed to leave because this was an important job. "Taking care of my husband is far more important to me!" he snapped, startling Neal into an immediate silence. "Christ," he murmured as he tried to figure out how to move Neal without causing him a considerable amount of additional pain. He met Neal's eyes and pulled a pocketknife out of his back pocket, leaning over Neal to cut the rope binding Neal's hands together behind his back. "Which shoulder did I dislocate?"

"Left."

"I'm taking you to a fucking hospital right now," Peter promised him, trying to pry him up from the dusty floor as gently as possible. Neal clutched at him with his right hand, gasping when Peter finally pulled him into his arms and cradled him. Peter immediately felt dry blood on Neal's back and knew he'd been hit by the crowbar pretty badly earlier. Martins didn't care about Neal, but Peter did and he was concerned about hurting Neal's back now. Neal's left arm laid limply over Neal's midsection, but he held onto Peter tightly with his right hand. He still trusted Peter with his life and knew Peter would take care of him as well as he could. Peter was protecting him at his own risk and they both knew Martins could catch them at any moment and kill both of them.

Peter carried Neal out of the storage unit and into the chilliness of the night, making his way towards the Taurus. He fumbled to unlock the passenger side door while making damn sure he didn't drop or further injure Neal. He lowered himself to the ground to get Neal into the passenger seat as painlessly as possible. As soon as Neal was situated at least moderately comfortably, he raced around the front of the car and dove into the driver's seat, immediately shoving the key into the ignition to start up the car. He didn't hesitate to speed out of there because he needed to get Neal to safety and get him medical help. "Ahh," Neal groaned occasionally when Peter hit a bump. Peter reached over each and every time, apologizing sincerely for jostling him around.

It wasn't until Neal got really quiet and stopped making painful sounds that Peter finally looked over at his husband again. He noticed Neal's eyes rolling back and whispered, "Oh, shit." He gently shook Neal's thigh, figuring that was one of the places where Neal wasn't in pain. "Neal. _Neal,_ stay awake."

"I am," Neal moaned sleepily.

He looked and felt like he was going to pass out and Peter didn't want to let him sleep. He knew he should, but he was terrified by the belief that Neal may never wake up again. "Honey, I'm going as fast as I can. I promise." He reached over and began to stroke Neal's hair, blinking back tears. "I'm so damn sorry," he whispered, his voice thick once more with tears. "I should've gone easier on you."

Neal laughed brokenly, causing himself pain. "I…I love you," he whispered. "We're okay." The effort it took to force himself to look at Peter was tremendous and made him dizzy. "We're okay?" he asked, his voice so small, making him sound as young and vulnerable as their son.

Peter could hear the question in his tone and wanted so desperately to inform Neal that they were far from okay because Peter would never be able to forgive himself. Neal was delirious at the moment, he told himself, so of course Neal would still love him. "We're okay," he said through gritted teeth.

Neal lifted his right hand to grab the hand Peter had on his head. Peter glanced at him worriedly, his self-hatred dissipating as Neal made such simple gestures with a lot of effort put into them. "Please promise me we're okay," he begged, sounding like he was on the verge of tears, which Peter firmly believed he more than likely was. "I can't… I can't lose you."

The older man kept believing he didn't deserve Neal's love, but knew he couldn't let Neal's heart ache as the rest of his body did. He loves Neal so much and knows—deep down within the depths of his own mind—that Neal will still love him as much as he did before. Peter sighed shakily as he began to cry silently. "I promise you that we're okay," he whispered sincerely, lightly touching Neal's fingers. "I'm going to make sure you're okay first, angel." He looked over at Neal and Neal registered the love and adoration in Peter's expression, which made him smile faintly. "Neal, I'm going to be right there at your side and I'm never going to leave you," he vowed.

•◊•

"How're you doing?" Peter asked, sitting down on their bed. He was glad that the bruising was fading after several days. Neal's shoulder, jaw, and cheekbone ached. He'd gotten a moderate concussion from hitting the wall and the floor hard enough. His temple was healing and didn't hurt as much now, but his arm was in a sling.

"I'm all right." He gave Peter a small smile. "Going to sleep is a little uncomfortable because of my shoulder, but it's all right when we're spooning. You're careful and you held me tightly enough to prevent rolling over onto my left side and inadvertently hurting myself." Peter nodded, his eyes slowly moving over each area he could see that had been affected by his assault on Neal. "How are you?" he asked, tilting his head to the side a bit, hoping to get Peter's full attention. Peter shrugged and was moving to help Neal readjust the sling. Neal backed away and drew his brows together. "Don't ignore me, Peter. I asked how you are."

Peter sighed, covering his face with one hand. "I'm miserable." Neal frowned, wishing he could help. "I'm trying to understand how you can still love me after what I did to you."

"Peter," he said tightly. "I asked you to do it."

"Oh, so it's not wrong if you ask for it?" Neal was silent. "Angel, I beat you. I fucked up your ribs and your shoulder. I'm so damn surprised that I didn't give you a severe case of brain damage. I—"

Neal walked away. It was all he could do. He'd been trying for the past week to make Peter understand that he wasn't upset with Peter and his hard-headed husband refused to listen. He knew he himself could be stubborn, especially when it came to his self-esteem and self-worth, but Peter was put into a very rough situation and Neal sanctioned the act.

Peter followed him into Nicky's room, standing still when Neal sat on his son's bed. Peter didn't know what to do, but he felt like he was losing Neal. If he lost Neal, he would lose Nicky, too. He would lose his little family and his heart. "I don't resent you one bit," Neal whispered. "You never resented me for being raped twice and for attempting to kill myself." He looked up at his husband, still frowning. "Why can't you believe me when I say I love you? Peter, you've loved me through all of the shit I went through. What you did to me was _nothing_ in comparison to what'd been done to me by the others."

"I'm pissed off because I hurt you and you're okay with it."

"I'm not _okay_ with it. There was no question of whether or not you should've done it. You saved your cover after mine was blown. Martins didn't know our real names. Peter, we're in the clear—because you kept up the charade." Peter shook his head and Neal looked away. "My body was already ruined when you met me, Peter, and you still fell in love with me. You're still in love with me. You could've easily looked at me like I'm some diseased sex toy because of—"

"I would _never_ think of you like that, Neal," he said angrily. "I loved you before you gave your body to me. I loved you when you gave it to me. I love you every time you _breathe._" He sat down on Nicky's bed beside Neal and rested his left hand on Neal's thigh.

Neal gave him an exasperated look. "Then listen to me when I tell you this was nothing to me. It didn't hurt me emotionally. I knew you wouldn't kill me, Peter, and I wasn't afraid of you." Peter cringed, squeezing Neal's thigh. "I told you a thousand times if not _more_ that I trust you with my life." He put his right hand atop Peter's. "I put my life in your hands and now I'm safe."

Peter leaned closer to him and Neal conceded, kissing his husband. "I love you, Neal, and I'm so sorry for what I did to you…"

"You didn't rape me and you didn't beat me out of blind rage. This was for a case and, like I said so many times over the last couple of days, this didn't affect our marriage. This didn't make me love you any less than I love you right now."

Peter's eyes were half-lidded as he lifted his hand to stroke Neal's bottom lip with his thumb. "You're so forgiving," he whispered.

Neal smiled softly. "There's nothing _to_ forgive," he said just as quietly. "You did what I wanted you to do and saved me. If you hadn't done that, Martins probably would have killed me. At least I knew that I was safe as long as you were the one touching me."

The older man nodded slowly, finally forcing himself to listen to Neal. Neal didn't look afraid or angry every time they were close. If anything, Neal was the most affectionate he's ever been. "I'll always save you," Peter whispered, "even if that means I've got to hurt you to do it, apparently."

"I trusted you and you didn't let me down, babe. I'm proud of you and I think you should be, too." He stuck his tongue out enough for the tip to brush up against Peter's thumb and then he got up. Peter watched him, giving him a small smile. "What would you like to eat for lunch? One of us has to go pick up Nick shortly."

Peter wrapped his arms around Neal's waist before he could get too far. "Excuse me, Mister Burke, but, if I'm not mistaken, you're injured." Neal raised an eyebrow. "_I_ will make _you_ lunch—and then pick up our son and bring him home."

Neal chuckled. "Awe. That's sweet." He looked over his shoulder, glancing briefly at Peter. "Seriously, love. What do you want to eat?" Peter's arms unwound from Neal and he swatted Neal's ass playfully, eliciting a yelp from the younger man. "What was that for?"

"You aren't letting me do things for you," Peter replied, sounding a little petulant. It was so cute and reminded Neal of Nicky. "You're my husband. I'm entitled to treating you like a king whenever I feel like it." Neal made a small giggling sound, shaking his head, muttering under his breath how he loved Peter even though he was a dork. "You go plant your ass on the couch or the bed and tell me what you want to eat so I can make it for you."

"Sheesh. Pushy bastard." Peter lifted his hand, teasing Neal with the idea that he was going to get another swat to the ass if he didn't listen. "Okay, okay. I'm going," he conceded, heading over to their bedroom. He sat on the bed and raised an eyebrow. Peter was looking at him expectantly. "Make some waffles?"

Peter nodded, smiling at him. "Anything you want," he said quietly. Neal made himself more comfortable, pulling his legs up onto the bed, crossing them Indian style. Peter went to work on Neal's waffles and brought them over to him with syrup once they were done. He sat beside his husband, sitting in the same position as him. Neal simply smiled before eating. They sat together quietly. Peter was kind of glad he'd injured Neal's left shoulder. Neal is right-handed, so trying to eat with his left hand would've been a struggle for him. Peter suddenly liked the idea of feeding Neal himself. "Hey, angel?"

"Yeah?"

He set his plate on his lap and patted Neal's thigh. "Why weren't you afraid of me?"

Neal glanced at him, giving him a small smile. "Because I know you. I know you love me and I knew you'd only go as far as you needed to." He carefully leaned against his husband. "I never once thought you'd kill me. You're my husband and I trust you more than anyone, Peter."

Peter nodded slowly, kissing his husband's healing temple. "I'm glad you're okay," he whispered. "I was worried about you…"

"As long as I'm with you, I know I'll be just fine."

•◊•

Several weeks after Neal had been injured, he was able to take the sling off. Peter was helping him here and there with things he couldn't do because his shoulder was still weakened and Neal didn't complain.

This morning, however, Neal wasn't in a very good mood. "Peter," he called out from the second floor laundry room.

"Yes?" Peter yelled back, rushing about the apartment to get ready for work since they'd all overslept.

"I can't find Nicky's dress shirt. It's picture day and I had an outfit picked out for him. Do you know where it is?"

Peter came down the stairs and stopped almost immediately upon walking into the laundry room. "Fuck. Picture day is today," he whispered. "Neal, I… It didn't get put in." Neal gave him an incredulous look. "Hon, I have so many things on my mind. I'm really sorry."

"Oh, so our son's obviously not that important," he murmured, walking out and past his husband. "Nick, find a decent shirt to wear," he yelled up the stairs. "I didn't think it was all that hard to throw his shirt in with the rest of your stuff," he added quietly, directing that at Peter.

Peter frowned at him. "Neal, I was working on other things."

"I'm kind of tired of having to remind you about the simplest of things," Neal said irritably. "The God damn reminder's been on the refrigerator for the past two _weeks._ Did you at least get money out of our account to pay for it?"

The older man nodded. "Yes, angel. I pulled the money out and put it into the order like you told me to. It was all set for today." Neal shook his head, heading up to the apartment. "Neal, I'm sorry, baby." The younger man didn't know what his problem was, but he wasn't in the mood for anything this morning and he was taking it out on Peter. "I'm really sorry," he repeated.

Neal stopped and turned on him. "Peter, I know you think I'm the mommy around here, but I haven't been able to do much physically because of the God damn sling and weakness in my shoulder. All I asked of you was that you make sure his outfit was ready because I want him to look nice."

"I'm not stereotyping you as a mother," Peter murmured. "I'm an idiot and I'm sorry, Neal. I don't know what else to say to you. I made a mistake and I upset you. Work has been hell on me lately, which you don't understand because you've been out of work too damn long."

Neal's brows rose to his hairline. "Excuse me, but I _wanted_ to go back to work and you forced me to stay home to heal, so don't give me that bullshit. I would've helped you with your work if you'd let me, but you're too damn busy working on things alone. You can't even wash Nick's outfit, let alone spend time with me anymore outside of bed."

"What're you saying?"

"All we do is lay in bed together, sex or not. We haven't gone out and done anything together in a while. It feels like a rift is coming between us, Peter."

Peter shook his head. "I spend time with you. We—"

"Peter, I sit with you quietly as you watch your games. That's the only time we've spent together outside of bed and I hardly exist during your games because you're so captivated by the screen and people who don't even know you exist."

"Neal, I don't know what the hell your problem is this morning. We don't fight over petty things like this. This isn't who we are. We're better than this."

"_I'm_ the one at fault here? You couldn't even do _one_ load of laundry!"

The two continued bickering back and forth until Nicky finally yelled, "Can you stop fighting?" The couple silenced immediately, glancing at their son. "You guys love each other. You never yell at each other like this."

Neal knew he and Peter had been arguing a little more each day, but he figured he was cranky because he hadn't been sleeping well and Peter was doing such trivial things that set him off. The two men shared a brief look before focusing on their son again. "You're right, buddy," Peter said quietly, glancing sideways at Neal in the hopes of fixing things before they left the apartment.

"All right. Finish getting ready. We need to leave in five minutes at the latest." They left in those five minutes and were at Ascension in no time at all. Neal walked Nicky in and made sure the order for Nicky's pictures got to the teacher. "I'll see you after school, baby," he said, kneeling in front of his son to pull him into a hug. "Be good like you always are," he said softly.

"I love you, daddy."

"I love you, Nicky."

They separated and Nicky grinned at his father. "Can you tell poppa I said I love him, too?" Neal nodded and rose to his feet while Nicky went to his table and sat down to get ready for the school day.

He briskly walked out of the building and was back in the Taurus, meeting the absolute silence. He was upset with Peter and wanted Peter to know that. Nicky managed to find a nice polo to wear, but Neal liked the outfit he'd picked out for Nicky better. "Nick asked me to tell you he loves you," he said quietly while they were en route to the bureau.

Peter nodded, reaching over to take Neal's hand. Neal thought about pulling away, but he gave in and held his husband's h and. "I promise I'll work more at home. You and Nicky are worth the effort and I'm sorry that I made it seem like you two weren't important."

Neal shrugged. "I'll just do the laundry once my shoulder's decent. For the time being, I can have Moz or Mike help out."

"Angel, I just… I just said I'm going to help more at home."

"I know."

Peter frowned and looked over at Neal when they stopped at a red light. Neal didn't seem inclined to talk about this anymore, so Peter let it go. He didn't want to argue with his husband again. He had the feeling that saying something wrong would make things so much worse between them. His chest felt hollow, like he subconsciously knew something wasn't right. As he pulled up to the curb, he sighed. "Neal, I truly am sorry."

Neal, frowning, whispered, "Don't worry about it, Peter."

They both got out of the car together. Neal waited for Peter on the sidewalk, his left hand slightly extended towards Peter despite the pain he felt in the small gesture. Just as Peter was about to take his hand, everything seemed to happen in slow motion all at once.

Neal's heart stopped as a gunshot rang loud and clear through the air. At first, he didn't register where it'd come from or where it'd been aimed at, but Peter stared at him in horror before falling to his knees and then forward onto his chest. Neal's throat constricted as he stared at his husband. Blood was pooling around his lover's body and all he did in that moment was yell for someone to call nine-one-one and kneel beside Peter, trying to shake him awake. Peter wasn't responding and people were screaming around him. He didn't give a damn about the gunman at the moment. Peter was bleeding out. He gently rolled Peter over onto his back and his eyes watered when he came to the realization that Peter had been shot in the chest. His own chest heaved as he pressed his hands over his husband's wound, trying to contain the blood flow. "Peter, please wake up," he pleaded, tears streaking down his cheeks as he slid one hand up to caress Peter's cheek while keeping pressure on the wound. He watched as Peter's movements slowed and he was beginning to panic. When Peter laid absolutely still in front of him, his blood ran cold. "_Peter!_"

**A/N: I came to the conclusion that I was going to end this at sixty or seventy chapters recently and I decided to go with sixty, but the last two chapters were the longest in the entire story, so it kind of felt like writing about four chapters. I've already begun writing a sequel to this story, but I'm stuck on a title at the moment. As soon as I have the title figured out, I'll have it posted!**

**I'd like to thank all of you who commented, followed, or added this story to your favorites. I wouldn't have been able to keep myself motivated if not for you! Your comments kept me inspired throughout, so thank you once again.**


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